


Our Neverland

by z0mbieshake



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Flashbacks, Gen, Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Non-Explicit Sex, Non-Graphic Smut, Past Lives, Schizophrenia, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-28 14:22:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 42,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5093951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/z0mbieshake/pseuds/z0mbieshake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perhaps he was being punished. Perhaps he had done something wrong in his past life, wronged Peter Pan, and now he was being punished to live a life in this modern world without him. </p><p><i>Why keep trying?</i> </p><p>Felix asked himself once more, realizing his dreams were so much kinder, so much sweeter, with his friends dancing all around him and his lover standing at the fire. He crossed the music room, unable to stop himself from imagining pan pipes and crackling fires. Someday, Felix knew he'd choose to sleep forever just so he could be with Pan. </p><p>In short: Modern high school AU in which Felix is plagued by his memories of Neverland while Peter is not</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Do you believe in a world of happy endings?

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably the only fic I'll ever write where there's no explicit smut. Thank you to Sporklift for helping me out with proofreading! This is something of a WIP, the main fic is done but we'll still be going over it for proofreading and whatnot. Anyway, to the Panlix fans who are still hanging on two years later, enjoy!
> 
> The song lyrics featured throughout the fic is a translated version of [Nevereverland by Nano](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=usIkcRUiRkA), which is also the biggest inspiration for this fic and the perfect background music to it if you're interested.

_Wide eyes desperate to be fierce but filled with fear._

_"Then you're not getting the boy."_

_A feral smirk, arrogant, proud, and perfectly in control, "Of course we are."_

_A horrific howl, a pathetic scream, the sound of tearing like... fabric? But harsher..._

Gasping as he awoke, Felix sprung from his bed, scrambling off the slippery sheets and over to his bedstead where a notebook and pencil lay, "The boy was brought to Neverland by the two adults. Greg and... Talia? Tabitha..." Felix hammered at his forehead with the tip of his pencil. He cursed under his breath when he couldn't recall the female's name. Not doting on it, Felix quickly scribbled down a few extra notes, "They were trying to build a smoke signal. The shadow killed Greg but not the female," Felix reiterated, tossing the notebook and pencil back onto the bedstead when he had squeezed out every last detail from his thoughts.

He groaned when the pencil rolled off the side, slipping under the bed. Fearing that a vivid memory may return in his dreams and he'd need his pencil to scribble it down before it faded, Felix climbed off the bed and retrieved it, bumping his head against the leg when he retracted. Sighing it off, Felix placed the pencil back on top of the notebook and returned to his bed, curling up in his sheets and hoping that he'd finally have a few good hours of uninterrupted sleep.

A siren went off. His alarm clock was screaming at him. Lazily, Felix drew apart the heavy curtains above his bed, letting the morning sun bask his musty room in light, " _Already?_ " Felix groaned, rubbing at the dark circles under his eyes.

 

"There should be enough food in the pantry for you. I know how much you hate shopping," His older brother Rufus said, snacking on his all-wheat cereal as he spoke, "If you need me, you know where to call, right? Elliot?"

Though Felix honestly did try to listen, he found himself far more entranced by the Frosted Flakes cereal box on the table.

"Elliot!"

Felix flinched at the sound of his true name, dropping the cereal box. His response came in stutters, unable to form a dignified sentence with his mind wandering elsewhere, "Uh-I-yes?"

Rufus sighed heavily, taking the Frosted Flakes cereal box and putting it aside, "You have to stop spacing out. I'm trying to tell you something important," Rufus sighed again when Felix meekly nodded back, clearly ashamed but far too distracted to understand, "If I had a choice, I wouldn't have taken this job abroad. You're not ready to be left alone."

"I'm eighteen," Felix snapped back, eyes immediately averting when his brother looked to him.

"Age has nothing to do with it," Rufus said firmly, regretting when Felix retreated more, curling up on himself, "Elliot, do you have any friends you could stay with?" Felix shook his head, unable to meet his brother's eyes. Rufus sighed again, raking his hands over his face, "Take care of yourself, alright? Don't just spend the entire day sleeping like you always do."

Losing his appetite, Felix shoved his half-eaten bowl of cereal aside and left the kitchen table. He picked up his backpack from the corner, trying his best to ignore his brother as he put his shoes on, struggling to tie the worn, fraying laces. He could hear his brother approaching and it only made Felix scramble faster to leave. He knew what his brother would say to him and it always left him sick and upset the entire day.

Felix had barely opened the door till he felt a hand clasp onto his shoulder, "You can't just live in your make-believe world forever."

Growling, Felix shook off his brother's hand and rushed out the door, slamming it behind him angrily. It wasn't a make-believe world. They were _memories_. His brother could never understand, how could he? Felix combed through his memories a hundred times and never found his brother in them.

Halfway to school, Felix realized that he'd forgotten his homework assignment. Swallowing his pride, Felix returned home only to find the house empty, his brother already gone on his business trip. Relieved, Felix retrieved his homework and almost left the house till a letter on the coffee table caught his eye. " _Elliot_ " was written in the center, clearly from his brother; final words condemning his memories before he left on his business trip.

"My name is Felix," Felix muttered spitefully, ignoring the letter and stepping out.

 

It was no surprise when his tests were returned with the lowest marks in the class, just barely inching out of a zero. He could never concentrate when the teacher spoke, opting to space out into the empty spot in his mind, cycling through his dreams from the last few nights trying to pick up new details here and there.

"Elliot!" The teacher shouted. Honestly, Felix had a hard time keeping track of his teachers, all of them eventually melding together into a single authoritative being whom he'd chosen to ignore, "You've gotten the lowest grade in the class again," She slapped his exam paper onto the desk. There was clearly more red ink scrawled on the paper than pencil lead, "You need to _apply_ yourself."

Felix's eyes slowly drifted upward, meeting the teacher's glare with an equally intense look. He hated when people interrupted his thoughts, fearing that he may have lost vital information due to the interruption, " _Fuck you_ ," Felix growled.

Gasps and suppressed chuckles immediately rose from the crowd. The teacher marched Felix out of the room, commanding him to go to the principal's office. As per the norm, Felix ignored the commands and made his way outside. He'd never take orders from an adult, whether it was his adolescent phase or his memories bleeding into this life, Felix would never obey them.

Cutting across the field to the abandoned clock tower, Felix crawled under the loosened boards barring the exit and climbed up the dilapidated stairs. The structural integrity of the tower made him wonder why it hadn't been demolished yet. It was a blatant death trap carefully waiting to prey on unsuspecting couples when they need some privacy. That was irrelevant, however, as Felix never cared enough to worry about his safety. In a life that meant so little to him, fear of death wasn't much of a deterrent.

Felix always climbed to the very top. No one ever dared to go that high up which meant it was the perfect little sanctuary for Felix. The face of the clock had already chipped away, leaving a quarter-size window high on the wall for him to peer through. In this clock tower, quiet and distant from the outside world, Felix would dive into his memories and fantasize about the only person he'd ever take orders from.

" _Peter Pan_ ," Felix whispered, shutting his eyes and reclining against a wooden beam. He reached out towards the window, fingers pawing at the sky. _Second star to the right and straight on till morning_. Felix could still remember the day Peter flew him towards the paradise that was Neverland. Sitting in the tower that sat closer to the clouds than anywhere else he could go, Felix felt like he was just a bit closer to Peter Pan, closer to his _true life_.

_I don't want to live like this anymore. I want to go back to Neverland._

Perhaps he was being punished. Perhaps he had done something wrong in his past life, wronged Peter Pan, and now he was being punished to live a life without him. Felix hugged his knees, trying to clear his mind of everything but his memories. _Memories of a true life._ At the very least, he'd always have those.

 

"How are you feeling today, Elliot?" The therapist asked, lips overly stretched in a crooked smile.

Felix shrugged, "Okay. I guess."

The rotund man nodded in reply, a dismissing gesture as he moved onto the more pressing topics, "So, your teachers say you're acting out again," The therapist started, flipping through a few notes where he had scribbled the complaints, "Is there something upsetting you in the classroom? Something you'd like to talk about?"

Felix shrugged, "No."

This routine was not new. Months upon months Felix would sit in an outdated, dusty office listening to the portly therapist with the curly mustache pretend to care about Felix's dilemma. He can't care for something he can't understand and Felix's true life, his real memories tucked away in his dreams, were dismissed cruelly.

Ten minutes of rambling later, the therapist rubbed at the bridge of his nose, exasperated from his fruitless attempts to speak with the troubled boy, "Something is troubling you, Elliot, but I can't help you unless you let me in."

Felix did let him in, just once, brought in his notebooks to this deceptively open-minded man and threw his hands up in grand gestures talking about the wonderful Neverland and the life he once had. The therapist smiled, nodded, _patronized him_ , "Can't trust grown-ups," He picked up his bag and stormed out. No doubt his brother would receive another phone call from the school

 _Why keep trying_?

Felix wondered as he wandered around in the halls, watching other students enjoying themselves with friends, gossiping at their lockers, tossing basketballs around at the gym. He would never admit how much he wished he could be just like them. Instead, his memories plagued him, his true, better life sitting in the back of his head mocking him for leaving it behind for this empty existence.

"Peter Pan," Felix whispered, shutting his locker and ignoring the students around him who watched him talk to himself. They could keep their friends, their gossip, their games; Peter Pan was better than all of them, a brother, a friend, _a lover_ , but worst of all, a memory.

Felix's heart ached at the thought. It always did when he longed for Pan, feeling like a hollow cavern crumpling in on itself. _Why keep trying?_ Felix asked himself once more, realizing his dreams were so much kinder, so much sweeter, with his friends dancing all around him and his lover standing at the fire. He crossed the music room, unable to stop himself from imagining pan pipes and crackling fires. Someday, Felix knew he'd choose to sleep forever just so he could be with Pan. Perhaps this was the day.

_"Even when the road seems long…"_

Felix froze. _He knew that voice_.

_"Every step you take will lead you closer to…"_

He looked into the first music room, frantic to find the singer.

"A special place within your Ne…"

Felix looked into the second room and his jaw dropped to the floor.

"Um, hi?" The boy greeted. _His voice was so close, so familiar_ , yet tinged in an American accent instead of an English one, "You looking for someone?" The boy's eyes immediately focused on the crooked scar on Felix's right cheek before settling back on Felix's eyes.

Realizing he was staring at the boy dumbfounded for a good minute, Felix cleared his throat and quickly gathered his words, "I-I heard you singing."

His hair was the right colour but a different style. The boy smirked, putting his guitar down, "And? What did you think of it?"

Felix blinked several times, going over his words to make sure they sounded natural, "It was very good."

His _eyes_ , they were the right colour. _God_ , they were so beautiful, "I love having an audience," The boy spoke, "I'm new here. Name's Peter."

" _Peter_ ," Felix chimed. He felt like he could cry from happiness, "I'm… I'm Felix," He stuttered when Peter started packing up, "I can give you a tour of the school."

Peter looked to him, puzzled by the friendliness of this supposed recluse. His new friends had mentioned plenty of times that _Elliot_ was deranged but Peter found nothing odd about his behaviour, "Sure. Why not?"

Felix's smile lit up the entire room. He nearly skipped down the halls as he led Peter around, pointing out the gyms, the library, the study areas scattered around. He talked as though he enjoyed his school life and it only confused Peter even more when Felix's counsellor passed by and stared at him with a bewildered expression.

"A-And that's the old clock tower. It's a historical building, came up when the school was first opened. They used to used it for storage but no one managed it so it fell into disarray. Good for privacy," Felix explained, speaking more than he had in the last few weeks.

Peter smiled at the explanation, amused by Felix's enthusiasm, "You really like this school, don't you?"

"Well, I…" Felix paused. No, he hated this school, but he had spent so much time in the library, he ended up reading all of the school history books, "I read a lot," His heart skipped when he saw Peter check his phone, saw him tap a quick text to someone with a friendly smile on his face. _Pan used to smile at him like that_ , no one else was worthy of it.

"It was a good chat, Felix," Peter said, still holding onto his phone, "It's getting late. I'm going to head home…" He faded off, noting how broken Felix suddenly looked, "Uh, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Uh," Felix stuttered, eyes averted and empty as he gathered his words, "Um. Okay."

_"What's with that look, Felix? You're being boring again."_

That voice, rich and memorable, rang in Felix's ears as _this_ Peter turned to the door and walked out. In all of his dreams, Felix had never heard such vivid words, the accent and inflections perfectly replicated. He gasped, shutting his eyes so he could enjoy that fond memory. _He wasn't crazy_. Pan was real; Pan was here with him.

 

_Sex made him sleepy, a complete contrast to Peter who was always filled to the brim with energy after tumbling in the sheets with Felix. He was up against the backboard, weaving Felix's hair into tiny braids while the boy rested on his lap covered in animal pelts._

_"There," Peter said, smirking at the bundle of feathers he had woven into Felix's hair, "Now you're beautiful."_

_Felix sputtered with laughter, nuzzling Peter's lap and shutting his eyes, "Thank you," He stretched his arms outward, pulling himself up against Peter's chest. He hadn't been this happy in a very long time._

 

Felix had not slept so well in years, not once waking up in the middle of the night yet able to remember every single facet of his dream: _Laying in bed with Peter_ , a day's hunt exhausting him but finding solace in Peter's arms. He scribbled the final detail into his notebook: A bundle of beads, leather, and feathers, the image too sharp in his mind to justify with words so he quickly retrieved his coloured pencils and began a quick sketch.

 

This was a dumb idea but Felix couldn't stop himself. He stood by the front entrance, waiting patiently with a bag of _rice crispy squares_ he had picked up on his way to school. He stood by the side, waiting for Peter and ignoring all the awkward glances that came his way. He knew the students condemned him, thought of him as a freak who'd someday bring a knife or gun to school. Already, he could hear the rumours passing on why he was standing idly at the front of the school. No matter, none of them mattered except for Peter so Felix paid them no mind.

His heart skipped when he saw Peter enter, dressed in a green polo shirt that accentuated his chest. A blonde girl followed closely beside him, chatting and nudging his elbow. On his other side was a taller male, brunet with a goofy smile and a letterman jacket. Felix knew him as one of the jocks that constantly said nasty things about him when he went by his locker.

"P-Peter!" Felix called out, hating the stutter in his voice as he approached.

Peter was the only one to smile at him, his two friends immediately soured their expressions, "Felix. How are you?"

Felix struggled to speak, nodding to him and mumbling 'good' before holding up the bag of rice crispy squares. Peter furrowed his brow, somewhat confused before taking the bag and opening it up, "Oh. Um, thanks. I love rice crispy squares."

Felix wanted to smile at Peter but found himself unable to lift his eyes from the ground with Peter's friends watching him cautiously like he was a bomb about to explode. He tucked his hands into his sweater, nodding shyly. His breath hitched when Peter's jock friend quickly manoeuvred Peter around him and walked away briskly. The girl was whispering into Peter's ear while the jock stared back at him, eyes wary and suspicious.

Was it horrible for Felix to wish that Peter had no friends?

After two hours of being ignored by teachers, Felix left the classroom to make his way to the stairwell for lunch. He stopped by the music hall, nervously puttering in and peeking into the music room, breath taken away when he found Peter sitting on the small stage.

"I wake up…" Peter sang, strumming on his guitar, "To a siren screaming at my ears- I _stifle_ its cry, without realizing what it meant."

Drums followed Peter's singing, keeping an even beat as Peter strummed his guitar. Felix paid it no mind, hypnotized by the wondrous boy sitting at the edge of the stage, "I muffle it with my heartbeat and _fall_ into the trap of reality…"

Felix recognized the boy on the drums as the jock who walked in with Peter. The goofy smile on his face and the way he smacked at his drums haphazardly proved that he wasn't listening to Peter, simply drumming away with whatever he thought fit. Somehow, that offended Felix. The blonde sat in front of Peter, clapping playfully as Peter played. Felix wished he could be in that position, first in Peter's line of sight.

"I won't regret it," Peter continued, voice low as he sang, "I gaze at the misery that is my future and I hold my breath," He paused, a sad strum on his guitar, "Sinking deep inside my mind, I watch the gears of my rusted memories struggle to keep-"

"Ah!" The blonde screamed, spying Felix standing by the doorway peeking in.

The jock immediately leapt to his feet, dropping the drum sticks and marching over to Felix, "Leave Peter alone!"

Felix _cowered_ as he approached, ducking his head and knitting his brows together. Peter quickly followed his friend, pulling him back by the shoulder, "Brad, calm down. You're scaring him," He looked to Felix with a kind, welcoming look, "We were just in the middle of practice. Want to join us?"

Without pause, Felix nodded back eagerly.

Meeting Felix's expectation, Peter loved music, prattled on with "Brad" and "Emily" about starting a band. Brad sat by the drum set, practicing a few beats while Peter and Emily sat on the stage scribbling down lyrics into a notebook. Felix remained in the seats, eating a simple ham sandwich while his eyes remained glued to Peter.

"The _gears_ of my rusted memories-" Peter cut himself off, strumming once and raising his voice, " _Stru_ ggle to keep turning."

"Nah, I don't like it," Emily said, "Doesn't sound natural."

Felix smiled a bit, "I think that sounds okay."

Peter chuckled gleefully, smacking Emily on the shoulder playfully, "Told you. Elliot likes it."

Felix's breath hitched, biting down the scathing remark he gave to everyone: _It's Felix._ He took a sip from the can of orange juice he brought for lunch, eyes darting over to Brad momentarily and stiffening when he noticed the jock glaring at him from afar. His smile dropped and he hung his head. He wasn't involved with gangs; he didn't do drugs; all he wanted was to be with Peter. Why was he being hated for this?

"Elliot?" Peter said, "Are you okay?"

Felix nodded back.

"So, do you play any instruments?" Peter asked, a purely innocent question while Emily tuned his guitar.

"Um, I play the pan pipes," Felix said, cringing when he heard Brad scoffing at the back, "I can bring them tomorrow."

Peter smiled at the suggestion, humming kindly as he leapt off the stage to sit next to him, "Sounds like a good idea. Thanks for the rice crispy squares, by the way. I missed breakfast."

To be acknowledged by Peter meant everything to Felix. The hooded boy nodded back eagerly, smiling goofily like a child half his age. Peter chuckled at his expression, amused by Felix's gleefulness at such a simple gesture. He figured Felix must've been lonely, awkward, and nothing like the psychopath his classmates made him out to be.

Shaking them out of their peacefulness, Brad left the drum set and plopped himself next to Felix, "Don't you think that's kind of weird, Emily? This guy meets Peter once and then suddenly starts buying breakfast for him."

Emily sighed, strumming Peter's guitar once before tuning it once more, "Don't drag me into this."

Brad threw an arm around Felix's shoulders, crowding into his space to intimidate him, "I'm just looking out for Peter. I just think it's a little weird."

Felix buried his hands in his sweater, feeling smaller as Brad continued on like he was chatting about something banal like the weather. He wasn't a freak. He wasn't a psycho. He didn't want Peter to think that of him at all. He glanced over to Peter, seeing an irritated look on his face but he was unsure who Peter was upset about, him or Brad.

"I-I have to go…" Felix murmured, empty look in his eyes as he shook off Brad's arm and walked out.

"Wait!" Peter called out, standing up, "Brad didn't mean it. He's just really bad at making jokes."

They weren't jokes, Felix knew. He heard the rumours about him that were passed around, knew what everyone tastelessly thought. He wasn't sure if they _wanted_ this to happen or not, his locker constantly scrawled with threats and slurs for his recluse behaviour. They were cruel, sick rumours that Felix took no enjoyment out of.

"You can join us every lunch, okay?" Peter said, patting Felix on the shoulder, "And bring your pan pipes tomorrow. I've never heard anyone play pan pipes before."

Felix nodded in agreement, smile returning to his face as he left the room _without Peter following him._ He paused, looking back and stung when he heard three people laughing away, having fun without him.

 

_What was he going to do in 'Storybrooke'? They'd probably lock him up the moment they landed in that ridiculous city. He was the only boy not to betray Pan, the only boy not to step onto Hook's ship eagerly, the only boy who threw a tantrum when he heard Pan was trapped in Pandora's box. He knew what they'd do to him when they landed. Every day, as he sat in his cell deteriorating, they'd come in with promises of a better life, of a new family, wearing him down till someday, when his mind was exhausted from this new world, Felix would give in and Peter would become nothing but a memory._

_No. He couldn't have that. Peter wouldn't want that._

_"Go away boy, not hungry," Felix muttered, feeling lower than he ever had. Betrayal, heartbreak, failure, there weren't enough words to describe his misery. Henry was pitying him, this was how far Felix had fallen._

_"But I came to thank you," Henry said, his voice lower but Felix hadn't understood why._

_He wouldn't fall. He refused to, "No matter what those other traitors do, I'm on Pan's side," He swallowed, hardening his voice as he spoke, "And Peter Pan-"_

_"Never fails."_

_Felix paused, taken aback, "What?"_

"As I close my eyes, there's nothing left behind. No noise spilling out. _No destination,_ " Peter sang, hanging onto the microphone while Emily played the guitar and Brad played the drums. This left Felix sitting in the audience, eyes once again locked onto Peter's with absolute wonder, Peter's singing _breathtaking, "_ I know that this is what I want; this is what I need. _The memories that will never leave me._ "

In his heart, Peter was singing this to him, singing about his past and all the pain that came with it. Felix blocked out his friends, blocked out the school till it was just Peter and him.

"We who have wounded past can never be healed," Peter looked to Felix as he sang, smiling briefly as his lips twisted upward. He sang a bit deeper, a bit richer, and Felix attributed that to his presence, "I already shut away such pointless, ordinary _unchanging_ days because what I desired is-"

A loud crash startled all of them. Brad tumbled backwards in his broken stool, groaning as he rubbed at his spine, "What the heck happened?" Emily asked, taking off her guitar and running towards the boy tangled in metal pieces.

"Stool broke," Brad replied, dusting himself off.

"Time to start losing weight," Peter joked, brow quirked as Felix swooned at the expression.

Brad gave him a mocking laugh, "Real funny, Peter," He took a stool from the side, sitting back in front of his drum set, "Should we pick up where we left off?"

"Nah, I had such a good rhythm going on. And you ruined it," Peter said, using Brad's interruption as an excuse to relax, "Anyway, I want to hear Elliot play the pan pipes."

Felix lit up at his words, pleased that Pan was interested in his talents.

Brad snickered, leaving the drum set and tossing himself lazily onto a chair, "Alright Elliot. Let's hear it."

"It's Felix."

Brad furrowed his brow, "Oh right. That name you like to be called."

Felix rolled his eyes. How could he ever understand? He didn't bother looking at Brad or Emily, keeping his eyes once again glued on Peter with all of his devotion. He wanted to laugh when Peter smiled back, eager to hear him play. He took the pan pipes from his bag. They were handmade using bamboo, reeds, and twine, _just as Pan once used_.

What song should he play? Pan had dozens of ballads but Felix could only remember one: _Aria of the Forgotten_ , only those who had lost something major in the past could hear. Felix brought his lips to the reeds and blew, an eerie but pure sound filling the air.

_"Felix? Forget about them. They'll never touch you ever again," Peter said, shaking the catatonic boy's shoulder, "You should take off those clothes. The blood is starting to rot."_

_The lanky boy didn't move, eyes empty and still as he continued to clutch at his bloody garments. He'd never forget what those monsters did to him, did to his family. He wanted to cry but found himself too miserable to find the tears._

_"How about something to lift your spirits?" Peter said softly, turning Felix's head to face him, "A song?" He waved a set of pan pipes in front of him. Not bothering to wait for a response, Peter sat down on a log and brought the reeds to his lips, blowing gently and summoning the pixies from the bush._

_Like a gentle breeze gliding through Neverland, a humming bird flitting through the sky, the music from Pan's pipes coloured the wind and forest with mystifying, indescribable tones. Felix lifted his head from his knees, unclenched his clothing, and watched with amazement as the entire forest came to life from his magic. Pixies flitted through the air, their voices like bells as they sang along._

_The Aria of the Forgotten,_ a ballad Peter dedicated to Felix to help him forget that which he had lost and the pain that came with it.

Felix lifted his lips from the pipes and was startled by the gobsmacked expression on everyone's faces, "Uh… I'm sorry," He flinched when he heard _clapping_ from Brad of all people, "Was it alright?"

"That was amazing, _Felix_!" Peter declared. For a brief moment, all of Felix's pain disappeared and he knew he could die happy in this single moment, "I…uh, sorry. I mean _Elliot_."

Felix shook his head, taking his hood off and running a hand through his hair, "It's okay," He leapt off the stage, biting down on his lip to hide his smile.

Peter threw an arm around his shoulders, "You should play for us every lunch."

At his words, Felix glowed. His eyes were wide, unblinking, filled with adoration for his once king. The smile on his face was wide, silly, affectionate. _Too affectionate_ , Brad and Emily were immediately perturbed. Felix didn't care what they thought. As long as Peter welcomed him, as long as Peter wanted him, everything would be okay.

 

For the next few days, Felix was happier than he had been for a long while. He didn't care for Emily or Brad, letting them chat with Peter when they wanted to. It didn't matter as long as he was able to sit beside Peter at their lunch table, in the band room, almost glued to his side when they walked and Peter never once showed that he minded. This was the most _alive_ Felix had felt in years since his true memories began returning to him. He wondered, deep in his heart, if he'd be able to push his past memories aside if he had this world's Peter with him forever.

Felix knew his joy made other's uneasy. Everyone was used to his sour mood, his unkempt appearance, and the scowl on his face that made him look feral. Everyone was unsure of him when he began to enter class smiling, keeping to himself whenever a teacher tried to provoke him into an argument.

Felix had to go to his therapist after PE. He wondered if he could skip it since his legal guardian, his brother, was off on a business trip and wouldn't be there to receive the phone call noting his absence. Peter invited Felix to walk home with his friends and Felix would rather give up everything he had in the world than miss that.

He left English class early. He stepped into the change room, noting that last period's class was still inside washing up and changing out of their gym uniforms. He dropped his bag into the corner, stepping out of his shoes.

"Hey, you got any shampoo left over?"

Felix froze, eyes darting to the shower room in the back. _Peter_? He didn't notice anything else, didn't care to notice. He slowly made his way into the back, not bothering to check if anyone was watching him. He peeked into the shower room, catching just glimpse of Peter standing under a shower head behind a curtain, his back to him, his hair soaked till it was dark and rivulets of water sliding down the curve of his ass.

Felix's breath hitched, his face blushed, eyes dilating with lust as the most sinful memories of Neverland rushed through his mind.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Brad barked, grabbing Felix by the shoulder and tearing him away from the shower room. Felix noted that he was changed out of his uniform, the dampness of his hair a telltale sign that he had just gotten out of the shower or more importantly, _he watched Felix the entire time._

Felix cast his eyes to the ground, blood draining from his face, "I-I-I have PE."

"You fucking pervert," Brad sneered, "You were spying on Peter!" He shouted, too loudly. All the boys in the room were watching them but pretending they weren't, "Don't pretend. I saw you looking through the curtain!"

Felix was shaking his head pointlessly. Brad wouldn't listen. He didn't know why he was trying, "I wasn't. I wanted-I wanted to talk to him…" He whined when Brad shoved him into the wall, dropping his gym clothes to the floor. He should be fighting back. If he was on Neverland, he'd be fighting tooth and nail to protect himself, earning the title of the most vicious boy on the island. _In this world_ , Felix cowered to everyone and crumpled in on himself when confronted.

There were others snickering at him, some rolling their eyes in disgust, Felix wanted to disappear, _go back to the world in his mind and never leave._

"Brad?" Peter asked, stepping out from the shower room with a towel around his waist, hair still dripping wet, "What's going on?"

Felix wanted to defend himself but his words choked in his throat. Brad stepped forward first, "I told you it was a bad idea hanging around him. This pervert was spying on you in the shower!"

"I saw him too!" A voice shouted from the boys, cruel snickers following after.

Peter looked to Felix, disturbed but worried by Felix's cowering, crumpled posture, "Is this true?"

Felix couldn't lie to Peter but he couldn't speak the truth either. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, tangling up and driving him mad. His breathing became shallow, his fingers numb and face drained of colour. Felix picked his clothes off the floor, grabbed his bag, and sprinted out.

Felix didn't dare go to class afterwards. He barely found the courage to come to class the next day, sneaking in nearly thirty minutes late just to guarantee that he wouldn't run into Peter or his friends. He could already hear the snickering of his classmates, murmuring the cruelest accusations. It was never like this on Neverland.

He could still remember the days in the Mermaid Lagoon, before Felix officially hooked up with Peter, he'd spend hours watching Peter play in the water, racing the boys in nothing but his trousers, soaked thoroughly and plastered to his thighs. Felix always blushed at the sight, unable to keep up his stoic act. It was one night, during Felix's nightly patrol, did he find Peter bathing in Mermaid Lagoon alone, moonlight making his boy glisten.

_Peter's eyes met his, calling Felix out from the bushes without words. Staring at him through wet eyelashes, Peter cooed his name, "Felix… come over."_

That was how it went. That was how it should have went. Felix shut his eyes and hugged his knees, finding solace in the solitude of the clock tower. He had no appetite so he didn't bother packing anything to eat. _He blew it_. Couldn't control himself, couldn't live by the rules set in this strict world. Why did he keep trying?

He reached into his bag, pulling out his pan pipes. It was foolish of him to think he'd be able to play for Peter after yesterday's fiasco.

"Elliot?"

Felix blinked once, rising to his feet and backing off as he heard footsteps approaching him. He took hold of the handlebar, feeling lightheaded when he accidentally looked over the edge and saw the long drop. _Felix was never afraid of heights_ but _Elliot_ was terrified. Felix shut his eyes, calming himself before reopening them to see _Peter_ before him.

"I thought it was you," Peter said with an awkward smile, "It's dangerous up here. You told me that," Felix nodded back but stayed silent, "Is this about yesterday?"

Of course it was. Felix didn't know why Peter asked such a stupid question. It was unlike _Pan_. Felix didn't want to answer, simply dropping back against the wall and holding his knees tighter when Peter approached. He didn't need to be scolded anymore. He flinched when Peter sat beside him, dropping his bag to the side and leaning against the chipped cement.

"Play a song," Peter commanded, nodding towards his pan pipes, "It'll cheer you up."

Cheer him up? Felix didn't want to play anymore of Pan's music. It made him confuse this world for the real one in his dreams. He shook his head, simply holding the pipes and doing nothing else, "You don't have to pretend, alright? I know you're angry at me. I know you hear what they say about me."

Peter blinked, "I don't care."

And for just a brief moment, Peter sounded like the way he should have. Felix's eyes snapped wide open, he stared at Peter but was dumbfounded by the soft look on his face. Pan was never soft, even in bed when he meant to be, his face was always harsh edges mixed with baby fat. Felix tore away, staring at the pipes once more to distract himself.

"When you play those," Peter started, "You become a completely different person. Did you know that?"

Felix was never aware but he figured he channeled something from Neverland whenever he summoned his memories of Peter Pan.

"Who taught you how to play?" Peter asked.

The smallest smile on his face, briefly forgetting his situation, Felix said, "My lover," His expression faltered, "My ex-lover," He corrected himself, "He used to play these for me when I was upset."

At the sight of Felix's pain, Peter placed a hand on his arm, startling him briefly before the touch became comforting, "Let's not talk up here. We can go back to the band room. I promise Emily and Brad won't bother you. And we can just forget about yesterday."

Felix should've never doubted him. Peter would always be there for him, would always be looking out for him in all worlds. _This world was no exception._ Felix was too happy at Peter's suggestion, the faintest blush on his cheeks. Peter noted the flush and smirked, glad to see some colour on Felix's pasty complexion.

"Come on," Peter said, holding out a hand for Felix to take.

Running on pure instinct, Felix charged forward and pressed his lips against Peter's. With his eyes shut and his breath held, Felix was far too blissed out to realized that Peter's eyes were wide with horror, cringing at the feel of Felix's lips against his own.

" _Ugh_ ," Peter groaned when he pulled away, breaking Felix out of his fantasies, "What the fuck, Elliot!"

Felix was frozen, body stiff and eyes unblinking, "W-What…" He reached out when Peter stood, frozen to the spot when Peter glared at him viciously, "D-don't-" _Don't look at me like that, please._

"What the fuck was that about!" Peter barked, wiping at his lips with the back of his hand making Felix's heart shudder.

Felix tried to get to his feet, slipping against the cement floors and struggling to find his balance while his eyes remained locked onto Peter's, "I thought you-" He paused, feeling wetness in his eyes, "You kept seeking me out. You let me sit with your friends. You stood up for me. I-I-I-I thought you wanted me to."

"To kiss me?" Peter snapped, groaning with disgust, "That was _pity_ , Elliot. I felt _sorry_ for you because of all that shit everyone says about you. I didn't want you to stick your tongue down my throat," He groaned again, grabbing his bag and rushing down the stairs, "Stay away from me."

Felix couldn't move, half crouched against the bricks watching Peter's brunet hair flutter in the wind, disappearing under the floor. The tremors were coming back, the heaviness in his chest that felt like his heart was collapsing in on itself. His limbs were shaking, his eyes watered, Felix hyperventilated, curled up against the wall as he breathed into his knees.

"He was just a fake. He's not Peter Pan, not the real one, just a fake, only a fake," Felix murmured to himself, " _Just a fake._ Just like this world," Felix bit down on his lip, gripping into his hair and crushing his eyes shut, begging this world to fade away like a bad nightmare, "Pan still loves me. _Pan still loves me. Pan still-_ " Felix shuddered, staring into the sky past the handrail of the dilapidated clock tower.

Felix needed to see Peter and he couldn't wait till tonight. He took his bag and rushed down the stairs.


	2. I believe in fantasies invisible to me

"Where's your boyfriend?" Brad joked, tossing his handful of cards down on the stage when Emily beat him again. The jovial expression on his face died when he noticed Peter's lips pulled into a frown, "Oh hell, what happened?"

Emily leapt to her feet, rushing over to Peter, "Are you hurt? Did he do anything to you?"

Peter tore away, wiping at his lips once more, "He tried to shove his tongue down my throat!" He covered his lips, cheeks heated with indignation.

"I told you!" Brad declared, "He's a freak. Everyone knows it but you still tried to play the good guy in all this," He leapt off the stage, smacking Peter's shoulder playfully, "Just listen to your best buddy next time, alright? It'll save you the trouble."

Peter took a sip of Gatorade, trying to wash Felix's taste from his mouth. His kiss was uncalled for, unforgivable, _yet the look on Felix's face_ , the utter heartbreak and shattering of his pride. Peter couldn't erase it from his mind.

For the next few days, Brad and Emily promised to stick close to him, frightened that Peter may have an obsessive stalker following him. Brad was right. Felix was a freak. He heard the rumours, heard that he goes to therapy every other day but started skipping recently, heard that he frequently starts arguments with teachers over his poor performance. The new rumours were crueller, based solely on the incident in the change room. Peter wondered how Felix could survive in a school like this without any friends.

It was only through rumours did Peter realize that Felix stopped coming to school.

"He's missing?" Peter stuttered.

"Whatever man," Brad said, reclining in his chair, "Maybe he killed himself or something."

Emily smacked him over the head, "That's nothing to joke about," The two looked to Peter, bothered by the disturbed look on his face, "Peter, it's not your fault. He forced himself onto you. You had every right to tell him to back off."

Yet, the first time Peter ever met Felix, the boy was completely approachable, friendly, and sweet. He was eager to see him the next day only for his new friend to cower and crumble at the presence of others.

"I have to check up on him," Peter said.

Brad waved his arms in the air, "Nope! No way. You're NOT going to see him. You don't know what he's going to do. What if he kidnaps you and locks you up Silence-of-the-Lambs-style?"

"Brad's right. Well, half-right," Emily said, contemplating it for a while, "What if he forces himself on you again? At least bring one of us with you."

Peter shook his head, picking up his backpack and stuffing his study books inside, "No. Both of you intimidate him. I'm going to see him by myself. That's final."

Knowing that they couldn't convince him otherwise, Emily and Brad accepted his decision, "Be careful, okay?" Emily said, fixing Peter's collar before smoothing down his shirt. Peter smiled to her, ready to break away before Brad suddenly latched onto him.

"It puts the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again!" He chimed, purposely patting at Peter's cheeks.

Rolling his eyes with a chuckle, Peter shoved Brad away and left the room. Once out of eyeshot, he switched to a far more serious look. He didn't want his friends to know how _worried_ he was. He'd never seen an expression like Felix's before, just complete, utter heartbreak. Deep down, it made his own heart wrench but he didn't have the time to comprehend what it meant.

Following the address several students gave to him, Peter eventually found himself at a rather typical looking house, unsubstantial compared to its neighbours. The front gate was still open which Peter took as an invitation into the front yard. No shrubbery, an unkempt bed of flowers and weeds mixed together. No one had tended to this garden in years, obviously opting to keep a simple lawn with shrubbery here and there.

Peter approached the front door, reaching for the doorbell till he noticed _keys in the lock_. He froze, taking the doorknob and twisting it, feeling the click of the lock before it swung open, "Hello?" He called out, frightened by the eerie silence that followed. He took the keys and deposited them on the front desk, locking the door behind him. He noted several pairs of shoes at the front. Felix must've been living with someone but whoever it was clearly wasn't in right now.

"Elliot?" Peter called out, walking up the stairs and examining the bedrooms.

Only one door was open and clothes could be seen strewn on the floor. Peter approached the room quietly, stepping in and utterly blown away by the art hanging on every wall, "Whoa," He gasped, hypnotized by the paintings of forests, lagoons, _fairies_ , taped up all along the walls with stacks of notebooks and papers all over the floor and desks. Had this room been anyone else's, Peter would've imagined it belonged to a conspiracy theorist trying to prove the existence of some parallel fantasy world.

Peter wondered if Felix painted all of these himself. The paint strokes were experienced, tempered over time, but he hadn't heard of Felix joining any art classes in school. There were also several trinkets hanging on a rack in front of the bed. His pan pipes sat on top with necklaces made of leather and string. On the desk, he noted a pile of brown feathers and leather, no doubt a second project Felix had in mind.

When Peter had taken in enough of Felix's room, his attention immediately turned to the unmoving lump under the bed sheets. Peter wondered if he slept the entire day. He approached the bed, reaching out to jostle the lump before his feet kicked on _pill bottles_. He looked down, horrified at the sea of empty sleeping pill bottles scattered on the floor. His heart raced as he leapt over to the bed and shook Felix violently.

"Elliot!" He cried out, voice high in horror, "Damn it, wake up!" Peter would never forgive himself if he drove Felix to suicide. He reached for his phone, fingers trembling as he punched in the emergency number before a bony hand reached out from the blanket and knocked his phone aside.

" _Stop_ ," Felix mumbled, lazily lifting the sheet off his head, "What are you doing here?" He asked groggily, rubbing at his eyes and barely awake.

Peter kept a serious expression, staring down into Felix's eyes as he lifted a pill bottle from the ground, "How many of these did you take? You could've died!"

" _Shut up_ , I know what I'm doing," Felix said absently as if he had to explain himself multiple times. Peter was taken aback by the harshness in his voice. Felix never spoke like this to him and he wondered if he hadn't even realized who he was speaking to yet, "I have trouble sleeping."

Peter sighed heavily, scraping a hand through his hair at the fright he had given himself. He watched Felix carefully, watched how the boy rummaged through his drawers sleepily for a pencil before scribbling something into the notebook on his bedstead. A dream journal, perhaps? The moment Felix was done, he tossed the pencil back into the drawer and glanced over to Peter. _His eyes were bloodshot_ , red-rimmed with stains on his pillow. He blinked several times before light returned to them, finally aware enough to realize who had awakened him.

"W-wh-" Felix looked away, unable to stop himself from bringing his knees to his chest under the sheets, "Why are you here?"

"I wanted to make sure you were alright," Peter replied, hands in his pockets, "You were skipping class. The rumours are dying down, if that's what you're hiding from. I told Brad to stop people from spreading them."

Felix shook his head, "It's not that," He rubbed at his forehead, smoothing back his tangled bed head, "I just need some time alone," _Needed some time with Peter Pan._ His eyes darted to the notebook. He had several good hours of contentment in there, simple memories he had reiterated several dozen times to calm himself.

At the sight of Peter in his room, the rejection in the back of his mind, Felix found himself reaching for another bottle of pills, putting himself back to sleep so he can go back to flying with Peter in Neverland.

"Stop," Peter said, snatching the bottle away, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you. Please come back to school."

"You've got nothing to be sorry about," Felix murmured, "It's not your fault."

Peter didn't move, obligation forcing him to stay. He knew if he left, Felix would take more pills and fall into a deep sleep or he'd go back to crying into his sheets. From the state of his clothes and hygiene, Peter figured this was what he had been doing these last few days.

"You want to talk for a bit?" Peter asked, "Must be really bored here, right?"

Felix sighed into his knees, covering his face briefly with his elbows. Peter was pitying him, just like his therapist and his brother. Felix wished he was a stronger person then he could've been able to reject his pity. Instead, Felix swung his legs over the side of the bed and slowly got to his feet, "I'll make us something to eat."

In nothing but a thin top and pajama bottoms, Felix paid Peter no mind as he prepared a small snack, a simple plate of cookies with a kettle of hot chocolate. He placed the cookies on the table, pouring both of them a cup of hot chocolate before sitting down across from a meek-looking Peter. Felix snacked on the cookies shyly, realizing that he had nearly nothing to eat for the last few days he vegetated in his room. Rufus would be furious if he found out.

"So," Peter said, trying to fill the air with small talk, "You drew all those pictures in your room?" The paintings of Neverland? His futile attempts to capture the wonder in his dreams and the breathtaking island that he'd give his life for. Felix smiled and nodded. At the sight, Peter smiled back, "They're really good. You should put them in an art show or something."

"It's not just a painting," Felix said, voice snappish, "I can't put something so important like that into an art show."

Peter didn't quite understand so he pressed forward, "What do you mean?"

Felix remained silent, eyes darting away from Peter and back into the cookies on the table, "Nothing."

"Try me, Elliot," Peter said

Felix shook his head, that cursed name on Peter's tongue proving everything already, "You wouldn't understand."

"I could if you let me," Peter replied, brow quirked in a disturbingly familiar way.

"That's what you all say," Felix wanted to snap but found his voice shallow and weak, "Then you all think I'm crazy later. That's what you all do."

Peter was adamant to learn. He kept a firm stance for his decision, "I'm here, aren't I? Even though I should be one of those people out there calling you a lunatic," Felix's eyes flickered up, staring at Peter despite his brokenness, "Try me. I can take it."

_No you can't. None of them can._

But who was Felix to deny a command from Peter?

"They're… my memories," Felix murmured, both hands scraping at his mug of hot chocolate nervously, "I come from a place called _Neverland_ and every time I sleep, I remember bits and pieces of it," He was cautious as he spoke, waiting for Peter to burst out into laughter and dismiss his mad ravings, "I don't know how I ended up here, why everyone calls me _Elliot_ , my name's-"

"Felix."

Felix froze, staring at Peter with wide eyes, "Y-Yes. That's my real name. And in Neverland, _you_ were there. _Peter Pan_ , the king of Neverland. _My king_ ," His heart lifted at the name, his mood immediately lightened, "He saved me and brought me to Neverland. We loved each other for centuries. We were happy. Then _things happened_ and now I'm… here," He was too enthusiastic. He was scaring Peter. Felix averted his eyes and tucked his hands into his lap, "That's what I see every night when I sleep. _Memories of Neverland_ , Peter Pan, my real life."

Peter watched him, expression careful and calculated but still confused, "Ah," He said, "So all those notebooks in your room."

"My memories," Felix replied, "Just bits and pieces I pick up and write down. I can show you some, if you'd like."

Peter smiled, tilting his head innocently, "Sure."

Felix pretended like he wasn't eager to bring down a heap of books from his desk, organizing them by dates on the floor where Peter sat. He pretended like he wasn't about to leap around on the walls with excitement when _Peter_ was leafing through his notebooks. He begged to all the gods that his notes would spark something in Peter, reawaken his true self just as Felix was awake. He watched Peter with blatant interest, like a cat fervently watching its prey.

"These are…" Peter faded off, unable to stop himself from flipping to the next page, " _Amazing_."

It wasn't the reaction Felix wanted but it was enough to lift his spirits.

"I mean, the continuity is all over the place but _the detail_ , the dialogue, it's perfect," Peter said, picking up another notebook and flipping through it, "You wrote all of this in your sleep?"

"Not in my sleep," Felix said sheepishly, flushed with embarrassment, "Just, whenever I wake up. I write down whatever happened in my dreams. I miss a couple details here and there but the dream always reoccurs so I'll make sure to get as much as I can down the next time."

When Peter started leafing through the next few notebooks, he could immediately see the overlapping stories, the almost continuity and choppiness of the narrative thanks to Felix's peculiar way of writing, "So it's like a puzzle."

Felix nodded eagerly.

"Maybe if we put it all together, you'll figure out why you're in this world."

_Wait…does he mean…_ Felix's jaw dropped, his lips twitching but unable to form any words as Peter continued to smile at him.

"Let's do it. Let's put this together," Peter said, "It's a long weekend this week and I'll take tomorrow off to help you."

Felix couldn't comprehend Peter's actions, "You don't have to. It's okay. I'll be fine."

"I want to. I know the rest of the world doesn't want to believe in you," Peter said, suddenly reaching forward to take Felix's hands, "So I will, _Felix_."

Those simple words were all Felix needed to hear. Holding back his affection, Felix leapt at Peter and embraced him tightly, sighing with a relief he thought he'd never feel. They weren't delusions. Peter believed in him and that was all Felix needed to confirm it.

"Give me a moment," Felix said, releasing Peter and grabbing a set of clothes from his drawers, "Shower."

 

Felix's giddiness was amusing to watch. Peter sat upon Felix's desk, watching the taller boy clean up all the trash and pill bottles in his room. When the trash can was too full, Felix prompted to shove everything under his bed, making Peter snicker. At the sound, Felix's head shot up, a smile too kind and too innocent on his face.

"Take your time," Peter said, "We've got four days."

_Four days_ , even if Felix had four years, it'd never be enough. He nodded despite his thoughts, sorting through his notebooks and bringing a whole stack of them in front of Peter, "Where do you want to start?"

Peter smacked at his knees, humming as he contemplated what to do, "Tell me about your drawings. That might be easier."

Felix didn't know where to start, wanting to talk about everything at the same time. He nearly bounced on the spot, scanning through the multitude of drawings taped up all over his walls, "So. Most of them are just parts of Neverland. This one," He approached the wall in front of his bed, touching the corner of the largest picture, "This is the Lost Boy's Camp. This is where you and I- _uh_ , Peter and Felix, lived along with the other Lost Boys."

Peter quirked a brow, "Other Lost Boys?"

_Ah right,_ he forgot to explain that part. Felix sat back down on the edge of his bed, "Peter Pan was a saviour. He'd travel the worlds, find boys who were lost and hurt, and he'd bring them back to Neverland so they could have fun and be happy forever."

"So, he sends them back home when they're old enough to take care of themselves?"

Felix furrowed his brows, confused, "No. They stay young forever."

Peter was… confused, "So he takes boys from their homes-"

"Unhappy boys," Felix interrupted, gripping into the hem of his sweater, "Boys who are lost and unloved. He takes them to Neverland and gives them a home. And they get to stay with him forever."

"And he never lets them go…?" Peter asked, swallowing when he noticed Felix stiffening with each inquiry.

"They wouldn't want to leave!" Felix replied, knowing that he must've sounded insane. Everyone always walked out on him at this point. He reeled back, closing his eyes and taking a slow breath, "No. They do. After several decades, they all wanted to leave. I never did though. All I wanted was to be with Pan forever."

A hand rested upon his shoulder, comforting him. Felix swallowed, looking into Peter's eyes and fearing that he'd stare at him like he was a maniac, "Go on. Tell me more."

It took Felix a good minute before he was able to collect himself again. He focused on another drawing, skies dyed red like blood, trees tangled and twisted like bony arms clawing at the air, " _Dark Hollow_. It's where the Shadow of Neverland sleeps," His mind was slow when he had to explain himself to people, trying to find a way to describe Neverland without scaring off his listeners. Peter was patient though, simply waiting on his stool for Felix to continue, "It's the spirit of Neverland who bonded with Peter Pan when he came to the island. He does Pan's bidding, finding lost children and bringing them to the island."

Felix knew the image of the Shadow he had quickly sketched on a post-it next to the drawing was menacing and crude. In anyone's mind, the Shadow was a demon and Pan was his master, "He's not a bad creature," Felix blurted out, trying to change Peter's mind before he could inquire, "He isn't. Really."

"Tell me about that drawing," Peter said, gesturing to the one far from Felix's window. The backing was pitch black, completely unlike the plethora of wildlife Felix filled every other drawing with. In the front was what appeared to be _a glass heart_ , glowing bright red. If Peter concentrated, he could almost hear it _beating_ on the page, humming with otherworldly magic, "What this?"

"That's my heart."

Peter laughed, approaching the drawing with a smirk, "I figured your heart should be more fleshy."

Felix wanted to laugh with him. He wasn't lying though. This was his heart, a drawing more vivid than the rest because every single night before he awoke, for just a split second, he'd see his own heart in _someone's hands_ , "It's… magical," He took the drawing off the wall, hypnotized by it, "Where I come from, hearts are very powerful things. They let you cast spells, _cast curses_ , control people."

"Did Peter Pan have your heart?" Peter asked.

Felix shook his head. He should've been offended but found himself unable to hate the implication, "No. He never needed to take it. I would've done anything for him," He taped the drawing back up, his own heart aching suddenly. Felix backed away from the wall, sitting back on the bed with a forlorn look on his face, "W-What else do you want to know about?"

"Tell me about Pan," Peter said, turning his chair around so he could rest his arms on the backing, "What is he like?"

"He's…. wonderful," Felix murmured, absent smile on his face. He couldn't stop himself from imagining _Pan_ in Peter's place, staring at him attentively and listening to him sing his praises, promising to reward him later for his loyalty, "He's perfect; he's funny, charming, smart, and he's always looking out for me. He's got the greatest magic in all the worlds. All he has to do is think of something and he could have it."

Losing himself, Felix started to feel the humidity of Neverland in his room, the call of Neverbirds far in the distance. He saw Pan before him, dressed in his fraying green tunic, sitting upon a log silently judging Felix's words. Would he reward him for his loyalty or punish him for his lack of tact? The options drove Felix mad as they always did.

_In reality,_ Peter didn't know how to react so he remained silent.

"He loves me more than anyone or anything else in the world," Felix said finally, unconsciously bundling up his blanket into his arms and holding it against his chest, "More than _Wendy Darling_."

"Wendy?" Peter narrowed his eyes, confused, "Who's that?"

"Oh, um…" Felix stuttered, scanning the walls for some painting he could use as a backdrop for the Darlings, "It's a bit hard to explain without starting from the top."

Peter stood from his seat, picking up a stray notebook and flipping through it, "Alright then," He said, sitting on the floor and scattering the notebooks around him in a circle, "Then start from the top."

If Felix had more time, he probably would've turned this into a PowerPoint presentation. He sorted through his notebooks, searching for his earliest memory: Being carried to Neverland sobbing hysterically and covered in blood, "Pan didn't have any reason to save me. My leg was almost broken; everything was sore; I was screaming my head off but Pan didn't care. He still carried me all the way to Neverland," Felix shut his eyes, recalling the crashing waves in the background and the soft sand below him, "He lowered me onto the beach, kissed me on the forehead, and all of my pain was gone."

"And that's the earliest memory?" Peter asked, finding a passage of Felix's story in another notebook, "Says here that it was night time when it happened."

Felix nodded, "I don't get all the details the first time around. There's a lot of duplicate scenes with different details depending on what I remember in my dreams," He laid out his notebook, pointing to a quick sketch he had made of the beach, "Right here. This was Skull Rock," The ominous monument in the background was oddly missing from the passage Peter held, "I remember seeing that from the sky when Pan flew me down."

"Are you sure this is the earliest memory?" Peter asked again, hinting at something that Felix didn't understand.

"Of course it is. This was the first time Pan brought me to Neverland. How else would I be this injured?" Felix replied.

Peter hummed, careful to word his suggestion properly, "Well, maybe you were on the island and Pan accidentally hurt you-"

"Don't ever say that!"

Startled, Peter's mouth snapped shut and he stared at Felix incredulously. The lanky boy was red with anger, furious at Peter's accusation. Peter remained quiet, hand on his phone and ready to leap to his feet while Felix slowly tried to collect himself. He sighed heavily, hugging a notebook to his chest and looking away, "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you," He brushed a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he had yet to kill even throughout his time in Neverland. Pan used to tease him about it, forcing him to keep his hood on always to prevent himself from combing through his hair.

"It's okay," Peter said, resting a hand on his shoulder, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have accused him of anything."

"I shouldn't have freaked out," Felix murmured, losing all of the confidence he had when he spoke of Neverland, "You're going to leave now, aren't you?"

Peter shook his head fervently, reaching out with both hands to clasp onto Felix's shoulders, "No. I'm staying right here. I'll help you get through this," He flexed his hands once, noting how bony Felix was under his clothes. He wondered if the boy ever ate properly, "So, Pan brought you to Neverland while you were hurt. Do you know why you were injured?"

Felix shook his head, "I don't remember," He sorted through the notebook, finally stopping on one with a set of pan pipes drawn into the corner. He flipped through the pages; Peter immediately noticed the pan pipe music sheets inside, "All I remember was that it was so painful to think about, Pan played the Aria of the Forgotten for me and erased it from my mind," He flinched when Peter came forward, flipping through the notebook in his hands, awestruck by the music sheets, "I…uh, I use this book to keep track of all the music I hear."

"All of this," Peter said, eventually taking the notebook into his hands and flipping through dozens of incomplete music sheets, "You created all of this through your dreams?"

Felix shrugged, "There was a bit of research and most of the music isn't complete. Had to learn how to play pan pipes but yes, I got all of those from my memories."

"Damn Felix. _You're amazing_ ," Peter said, sweeping Felix off his feet if he were standing. The lanky boy could do nothing but stare at his supposed king, the tiniest of bashful smiles on his lips, "You've got more _talent_ than half the school."

Felix shrugged, indifferent to what everyone else thought about his art, "I don't care what they think. I only care about what _you_ think."

Peter looked to Felix, realizing his words were genuine. Felix honestly believed he was _Peter Pan_ and Peter didn't know what to say. His thoughts were wrong, troubled, but in the tragic mess that was his life, Felix created an artful, mystifying world, developed talents people could only dream of. Peter took Felix's hands, feeling bad for taking advantage of Felix's feelings for him but finding no other way to reach out.

"I'll help you put this story together from beginning to end on one condition," Peter said, voice low.

Felix's eyes glistened as he watched Peter, lips parted just slightly, eager for Peter's instruction, "Anything you want."

"As soon as we're done putting this story together," Peter started, slightly bothered by how Felix's eyes remained unblinkingly focused on him, "You have to put this all away, _temporarily_ , and go outside. Just see the world and enjoy yourself just once."

"Will you be there with me?"

Peter nodded back, feeling Felix's hands tighten around his, "Of course. I'll be right beside you."

Felix looked like he'd cry from happiness. He nodded, babbling out agreements and happy sounds as he threw his arms around Peter once more, "I'll do anything you want. Always," Felix sighed dreamily, shutting his eyes and for once, not imagining Neverland to make himself happy.

_This boy was disturbed_. Peter needed to know he wasn't making the condition worse by buying into his fantasy. All these years, everyone treated him like a freak and it wasn't helping Felix one bit. Peter had to try this if no one else would. If Brad were here, he could already imagining his sarcastic tone as he called him a good Samaritan.

Peter shut his eyes, letting Felix's pleasant embrace wash all of his doubts away. _I'll save you, Elliot._

_I love you, Peter._ Felix tightened his hold on Peter, feeling alive. _God, I love you so much. I forgive you for everything that's happened. Just don't ever leave me._

 

"Hey man, you sure that's safe?"

Peter was stretched over his couch, laying back on a few pillows he had taken from his home. Somehow, he convinced his parents that he had joined some new buddy therapy program at school and his very first 'buddy' was Felix, or _Elliot Granger_ as his documents read.

"Everyone's exaggerating at school," Peter said, talking into his phone while Felix showered upstairs, "Felix is a good guy. He's just got no friends."

"A bit psychotic is more like it," Brad replied, "You're new here. You didn't see him in freshmen year when he'd talk about how magic and fairies were real. And one time, he told the teacher he was going to rip his shadow out, complete with sound effects!"

_Shadow ripping_ , Peter remembered that from one of the passages when a mad pirate tried to kill one of the Lost Boys for food. Pan swooped in and tore the raving man's shadow off, "Ah. _That_."

"If Elliot comes to school one day wearing a Peter-skin jacket, let it be known that I warned you."

Peter rolled his eyes, "You need to stop watching horror movies. And relax, I'm just sleeping over for a couple days, I'll be back at school on Tuesday. Hopefully, once this is all done, he'll be back to normal," Brad sputtered on the phone, "What?"

"Come on, Peter. 'Back to normal', you think you can fix him in four days?"

"Not _fix_. I mean, just help him out a bit. Give him some direction," Peter snapped, pouting at Brad's disapproval, "And it's different from his therapist or his brother. I've got a special connection with him."

"Just because he's got the hots for you…"

Peter scoffed, swinging one leg over the other, "Whatever man. You'll see. Maybe I'll teach him how to play the drums too then we can replace you in the band."

"Not cool, Peter!"

The two chuckled away, Peter breaking off first when he heard Felix coming down the stairs, "Talk to you later. Felix is coming," He put his phone away, not bothering to hear whatever sass Brad was about to give him. He smiled pleasantly to Felix, noting the stacks of blankets Felix had in his hands.

"Thought you could use a couple more sheets," Felix said, "Couch isn't very comfort-" His breath hitched as he accidentally stepped onto a dangling sheet, immediately stumbling forward and tumbling all over the living room floor.

Peter chuckled lightly, leaping to his feet to help him up, "Careful," His humour died when he noticed the sour look on Felix's face, all because he tripped over a couple sheets. He resembled a child half his age, "It was just a couple blankets," He pat Felix's cheek lightly, "Come on, don't make that face."

"It's not that," Felix replied, kneading his hands in the blankets, "This doesn't happen to me in Neverland. I'm not clumsy, weak, and scared of everything. I lived on a carnivorous island for over a century. But _here_ , I can't even walk around while holding blankets," He sighed, far too emotional over such a simple misstep.

Once again, Peter had no idea how to react. He picked up the sheets and dropped them onto the couch, eventually pulling Felix up beside him and sitting in awkward silence, waiting for Felix's embarrassment to pass. No such luck as the boy continued to pout and fidget in his seat.

"How about-" Peter said loudly, "-we watch a movie or something?"

Felix looked to him curiously, "What movie?"

Peter shrugged, "Anything that'll cheer you up. What's your favourite movie? We'll watch that."

"Peter Pan," Felix replied without delay.

Peter narrowed his eyes, "It's _a movie?_ "

Felix had searched through several video stores, combed through all of Netflix. Not once did he see the same _Disney's Peter Pan_ on the shelves or in the catalogues. He could only imagine in this world, Peter Pan did not exist at all, "Not in this world. But in my world, it was my favourite movie."

"Ah," Peter murmured, eyes flickering back and forth, "But in this world. What's your favourite movie?"

Felix shrugged in reply. He was never a fan of watching movies or TV. He much preferred searching through his own memories for entertainment. Nothing could ever beat the excitement of storming Captain Hook's ship with a strike team of Lost Boys. He hummed, twiddling his thumbs as he pondered, "I don't know," He caught Peter's frustration with his lack of opinion, "But I've got something fun we can do."

"Hm? What is it?" Peter asked, begging that his suggestion was not some Neverland game he played in his fantasies.

"You can practice your song," Felix said, toothy grin on his face.

Peter was so taken aback by the suggestion, he ended up doing exactly as he said, even taking out his laptop to play the melody while he practiced, "Emily and I are stuck on this part," He propped the laptop up on his knees, replaying a short melody over and over while Felix remained uncomfortably close to his side, watching the cursor flicker back and forth, "Words that pierce like knives," Peter said rhythmically, "They all _laugh_ at my misery."

"This is a really sad song," Felix said, tapping his fingers on his knees to the beat, "What made you want to start writing it?"

Peter shrugged. It was just something that came to him and Emily liked the idea, "Just came to me. Kind of like your stor- _memories._ Like your memories."

It brought a smile to Felix's face when Peter played along. He hugged his pillow to his chest, a default position whenever any emotion overwhelmed him, "Like, _Pan_ wrote this song?"

"Well, let's give me some credit too," Peter said, pleased when Felix laughed along with his joke, "Help me out here," He replayed the musical clip, "Unable to do do _any-thing_ , I swallow back. My. Trembling. Voice. I fall into the trap of _solitude_."

"Can I stay down here tonight?" Felix asked, glancing over to Peter shyly.

Peter shrugged, "It's your house."

"I mean, stay down here with you," Felix added, an ashamed look on his face, "I won't try to kiss you again or touch you without permission. I promise."

At his desperate, cowering tone, Peter didn't have the heart to reject him. He gave him a half-smile as confirmation, moving to the shorter couch to let Felix stretch over the long one. Moments later, after curling up in the thick blankets he had brought along, Felix fell fast asleep before Peter even had a chance to work on the chorus.

_Elliot is delusional,_ trapped inside of his own fantasies where he's a brave leader loved by an unrealistically perfect king. He wondered when he started making up stories, when he started lying to others that they were real, and when he started to believe his own lies. He looked back to his laptop, playing the second part of the melody and sending a quick text to Emily for new lyrics to their song.

_My footsteps have gone astray_

_I stumble, lose my presence, drip with tears_

_In my heart, this manic tragedy keeps playing_

 

_"Breathe Felix. Breathe," Peter's voice was shallow, high with worry as the boys lay Felix on the ground, "Breathe. You're going to be okay, I swear."_

_Felix couldn't move paralyzed with pain that erupted from his sides. A cutlass stabbing cleanly through his flesh from a pirate that dared to raid their camp. He felt a couple boys holding the wound closed, feeding him small sips of rum to numb the pain._

_"Why the hell are they attacking my boys!" Peter snarled to some blurry figure to his left._

_"They attacked_ us! _" A deeper voice replied. Captain Hook, Felix recognized him as, "We're not just going to sit around and let your boys pick us off one by one."_

_"You'll do whatever I tell you to do," Peter snarled, voice low, "Get out of my sight. And if I see your pirates on my island, I'll kill every single one of you and hang your bodies on Dead Man's Peak."_

_Dead Man's Peak was all Felix could catch from Peter's conversation. Odd name, he always thought. He wondered who labelled it so ominously. As soon as Hook was gone, Peter rushed to Felix's side, holding a hand over his forehead, "What's wrong with him?"_

_"Poison," Another boy said. Felix could make out a blur of fiery red curls, "Not dreamshade, or else he'd already be dead, but something similar to it. Perhaps a sister flora?"_

_He could feel Pan's hands on him, palms flat against his chest as a burst of magic filled him, refreshing and cool but ultimately muffled by the unbearable pain coming from his side. Felix's head dropped limp in the dirt, the green of Pan's tunic fading away with everything else._

_"No, no, no," Peter murmured, "Stay with me."_

_His hands were on his chest again, warmer, stronger, and a pulse of magic burst from his palms, shaking all of Neverland as a rippling ring of green magic cut through the air. Felix felt his chest lift, his entire body cleansed and charged with Peter's raw strength. His eyes snapped open, the world no longer blurry and dark. He collapsed into the dirt, all of his pain gone._

_"P-Peter?" He stuttered out, smiling at his leader who had turned his head away._

_All the boys looked in his direction and saw a burst of light come from Skull Rock, the eyes filled with fiery light one second before dying out the next. Peter flew off as quickly as he could, leaving a newly healed Felix in the company of his Lost Boys. Felix didn't need to inquire to know what had happened: Peter sacrificed a piece of his life force for Felix._

This was a new memory. Felix awoke with such clarity of his dreams, he could even recall the name of the boy sitting beside him: _Curly_. He sat up quickly, grabbing a stray flier from the coffee table and scribbling down as many details as he could remember. Skull rock, Peter Pan's life force, Curly's medical aid, dreamshade, Captain Hook.

The memory itself had pleasant implications. Felix held a hand over his chest, realizing that Peter had once sewn a piece of his life force into Felix's soul, saving him from poison. A part of Peter would always be inside of him. He smiled absently to himself, completely forgetting that he wasn't alone.

"Felix?"

The boy jumped, almost yelping as he turned to see Peter standing in the kitchen with a couple eggs in hand, "Morning," Felix greeted, wiping his silly expression off his face and getting up from the couch.

"What was with that goofy smile?" Peter asked, brow quirked as he cracked the eggs into the pan and tossed the shells away, "You usually wake up like that?"

Felix didn't feel the need to be discreet. He nearly skipped into the kitchen, taking his cereal from above the sink and looking for milk in the fridge, "Had a good dream about Peter. He saved me from poisoning by giving me a part of his soul."

"That's a nice dream. Thanks to me being here, right?" Peter snickered, pleased that Felix was at least in a good mood in the morning, "I'm making eggs and sausages. Put the cereal away," He gasped, nearly dropping the spatula when Felix suddenly embraced him from behind.

"Thank you for believing in me," Felix murmured into his hair, smile pressed into Peter's forehead.

At those soft words and the pleasant look on his face, Peter didn't have the heart to call Felix's memories a delusion. He patted his cheek gently, shooing him over to the dining table before serving breakfast to both of them.

As soon as breakfast was done, the two went straight to work. Felix started up his own laptop, opening documents ready for organizing his notes while Peter set up a corkboard with string and tacks. The first time Peter tore a sheet out from a notebook, Felix flipped out, "Stop! What are you doing?"

Peter flinched, terrified that Felix would tackle him, "We need to organize these, right? It'll work better if we organize all the notes first before we start summarizing everything," He made a small stack of sheets, cautious when he spoke to Felix who was still wide-eyed in fear, "All the passages about your first day in Neverland go here. And so on and so forth, and once that's all organized, we can start ordering them on the timeline."

Felix nodded in agreement, reaching into his closet for a whole crate filled with notebooks. He smiled sheepishly, scratching at his chin, "It's going to be a long day."

"Hope you got a coffee pot going then," Peter replied, sliding the notebooks out and carefully ripping the sheets, "We'll get it done. I promise."

Felix leapt to his feet, eager to follow his command, "Yes, Peter!" He dashed out, halfway to the kitchen without even realizing that Peter was joking.

 

Night had fallen by the time all the notes were finally organized and some semblance of a timeline could be made. Felix and Peter threw themselves backwards in their chairs, notes stacked neatly in scattered piles. The two shared a quick glance before looking back at the corkboard, filled to the brim with sheets, post-its, and strings connecting one event to each other.

"Now we really look like conspiracy theorists," Peter joked, taking a mug of cooled down coffee.

Felix crept over to the board, touching the very first event labelled on the top left corner. He'd never had his memories laid out like this before and having them organized in a tangible way made it seem more _real_.

"So, how about a rundown of all the milestones?" Peter asked, crossing his legs and staring at the board.

"Mm," Felix replied, stepping aside so he wouldn't be blocking the board, "We start here. Pan brings me to Neverland broken and battered. He heals me and wipes my mind of the pain. My life starts new," He follows the string to another tacked on sheet. Post-its were taped along it, signalling sub-events that happened but led to no great change, "Pan brings in more Lost Boys to fill the camp. The first group introduces Tootles, Nibs, and Sticks. From here, Sticks tries to worm his way into being Pan's second-in-command but fails."

Peter grumbled slightly, "Who's Sticks again? He doesn't stand out."

Felix looked through his notepad on characters, "Sticks, also known as Devin. One of the first Lost Boys and the longest to last."

"Let's cut him out. I don't think he's so important," Peter suggested, "Then we can concentrate on the other boys."

Felix noted that down in his notepad. He agreed with Peter. He was never fond of Devin back in Neverland and how he constantly fawned over Peter, trying to take Felix's position without any sort of tact or subtlety.

"Hook appears," Felix says, tapping the next sheet along the string, "Around this time, Pan and Felix start their…relationship," Felix blushed, he knew he was blushing, and Peter was just too gleeful about that to let it go.

"Look at you, your face is all red just thinking about it," Peter snickered, moving forward to nudge at Felix's shoulders.

Felix bit down his smile, scrubbing at his hair nervously once more as the heat spread to his ears, "Anyway, Baelfire appears, taken here by the Shadow. Shortly after, the Darlings arrive at Neverland and are held captive on the island."

Peter's thoughts hitched at that statement, " _Held captive_ is an interesting way to put it."

Felix looked to Peter, "That's what we did. They tried to take Baelfire away and we needed people in the World without Magic so we kept the Darlings."

"And you don't see anything wrong with that?" Peter asked casually.

"No. It was necessary," Felix replied, brows furrowed, "They were threats to Pan. They deserved it for trying to take away his victory," Peter was unmoved by Felix's reasoning. Hanging his head, Felix said, "I can take it out if you don't like it."

"No, no. Keep it in. Story wouldn't make sense if you took them out," Peter said, "Anyway, continue."

"Right. Where was I…" Felix turned back to his cork board, "The Darlings arrived. Around this time, Pan's power began to wane. The hour glass was at half," He tapped at the sketch of an hourglass he had tacked by the main note, "Second generation of boys appeared introducing Slightly, Curly, and Rufio. Pan meets Tinkerbell at this time."

Peter noticed Felix pause before moving to the next milestone. He figured Felix hated this one the most, "Pan falls in love with Wendy," Felix mumbled, resting his hands on his knees, "I leave the Lost boys for a bit. Rufio leads them for a while and dies at Hook's hands," He absently traced a post-it on the side, "Baelfire leaves the island and all of Pan's pieces are set."

"You can remove that if you want," Peter said, "I know how much it hurts you to think about it. I could see it in your face," Every book that mentioned Wendy was accompanied by her name scratched out violently. Even if Felix never wrote it in explicit detail, Peter could tell that Wendy stole Pan's heart.

Felix shook his head, "No. It's okay. I win in the end, after all," He said, looking to Peter with a pleasant expression, "Pan loves me the most, not her," He turned back to the board, "Anyway. The final act begins. Henry comes to Neverland; Pan's hourglass is almost out. His family comes to save him. _Pan loses_ and the island is abandoned," He followed the red string to the final milestone, "Pan takes over Henry's body. He steals the curse. It ends with me and him standing over Storybrooke, about to cast the curse and create our new Neverland."

"That it?" Peter asked, drumming his fingers on his knee, "What happens after?"

Peter could not find the ending in any of the notebooks he scoured. There were still a good third of the notebooks they hadn't searched but he figured that some semblance of the ending must be found somewhere in the books he reviewed.

Felix shrugged, "I don't know. I never write that piece down."

"Maybe that's the final puzzle piece," Peter remarked, tapping at the notes in the finale, "And once you find that, you'll know why you're in this world," Felix shrugged in dismissal, "Or maybe, we're supposed to write a new ending," Felix's eyes lit up, lips parted, and Peter knew he said something right.

"I'd like that," Felix murmured. A tired laugh and a yawn later, Felix stretched lazily before tossing himself backwards onto his bed, "I'm exhausted."

"This was your idea," Peter replied, his voice groggy but still much more awake than Felix. He purposely flopped onto the bed beside Felix, slapping his stomach with a lazily thrown arm, "Should've taken more coffee."

"Coffee don't work on me," Felix mumbled, rolling onto his side and trapping Peter with his arms, "You're my best friend, did you know that?"

Peter snickered lightly, enjoying Felix's hands on him a bit too much. He rolled around on the bed to face Felix, ready to reject him with a joking remark only to be dumbfounded by the look on Felix's face: Pure innocence, sweeter and more affectionate than any girlfriend Peter ever had. Peter swallowed once, a bit shocked at the expressions Felix's usually stone-cold face could make.

"Thank you," Felix murmured, eyes averted shyly, "It really means a lot to me."

Peter gulped at the sight, looking to Felix's ears. _His ears are blushing. That's so cute._ He smiled, laughing at bit at the sight. He wanted to remark on it but Felix had fallen asleep in seconds, head still resting against Peter's shoulder as he dozed away. With Felix tucked on his shoulder, Peter reached for his phone on the bedstead, contemplating if he should snap a selfie with him while he was asleep.

He hummed for a bit before snapping the shot anyway. Perhaps he could surprise Felix with it someday when they were outside, hanging out at a mall or something with the rest of his friends. At the reminder, Peter quickly tapped a text to Emily and Brad, the former as a goodnight, the latter to prove that he was still alive.

Peter wanted to leave the bed, wanted to head back downstairs before he made it awkward. Yet, with Felix nestled in his arms sleeping peacefully, Peter couldn't stop himself from thinking how _correct_ this image was. He shifted himself in bed, letting Felix rest upon his left shoulder before putting down his phone, shutting off the lamp, and falling asleep beside him.


	3. All the misery will pay off in the end

_"Ah!" Wendy cried, ducking Felix as he lunged at her swinging his dagger, intent on killing her. She stumbled down the treehouse,_ Pan's treehouse, _a space once reserved for only him and Peter. Felix followed her closely, navigating the trees with far more ease and able to catch up even with her head start._

_He tackled her down, taking a handful of her dress and yanking her close. He grabbed her by the throat, ignored her begging and whimpers as he lifted his dagger. Nothing but feral instinct was coursing through his veins. He wasn't going to let this witch steal Peter from him._

_"Stop!" Peter shouted, grabbing Felix's wrist and stopping him. Felix snarled, struggling as Pan grabbed his arms and pinned him to a tree, "Wendy, get out of here!"_

_No. No. No. No! No! Felix thrashed against the tree, trying to kill Wendy with just his hate, just his_ belief _but Peter was there to stifle it. When the girl got away, Felix directed his rage to Peter snarling at him for the first time in decades, "What the hell!"_

_"She's leverage. I can't let you kill her," Pan said, tone harsh._

_"You love her," Felix snapped, "I saw you kiss her. I saw you!" His voice broke from the sheer volume of his shouts. Peter didn't deny his words which made it all the worse, "I hate you."_

_Peter had no patience, simply throwing Felix into the dirt, "She's going to be my queen whether you like it or not."_

_Felix thought they were kings together. Only now did he realize how foolish that concept was. There could only be one king. Felix swallowed harshly, glaring at Pan with his heart beaten and fractured. He wouldn't be a part of this kingdom. Pan could drive all the lost boys to hell for all he cared. Felix leapt to his feet and ran._

Felix promptly tore that page out, stuffing it under a pile of haphazardly stacked papers. He glanced over to the bed, noting that Peter was still fast asleep. He didn't want Peter to know that he was rigging the books, that despite the seeming lack of organization, some notebooks really were reserved for other content. _These notebooks_ catalogued Felix at his worst: The days when Pan had fallen for Wendy and abandoned him. These were the days when Felix and Peter did the most awful things: Trying to murder Wendy, letting his selfishness kill Rufio _._ He couldn't let Peter see this even if they were vital pieces of the story.

"Felix…? What are you doing?"

Felix whipped around, heart leaping to his throat when he realized Peter was right behind him. He didn't even realize that he had snuck up behind him, the noise in his head drowning out everything, "I-I-I just organizing notes. Thought I wouldn't wake you by showering," Peter took the notes from his hands and Felix shut his eyes in resignation, "I didn't want you to see that. Please," He grabbed at the notes, covering them.

"When we agreed to put this story together, we agreed on _all_ of it," Peter placed a hand on the notes, "Even the parts you're ashamed of," He flipped the page, noting how Wendy's name was scrawled out on every line, "Tell me about _this part_. What happened to make you hate her so much?"

Felix shook his head, "You'll be angry at me. Just like how Pan was."

"Try me," Peter replied, pulling up a stool to sit on. He ran his hand over his chin, highlighting the light stubble he'd have to shave. It bothered Felix for _Pan_ to show signs of aging, "I've heard plenty about you and I'm still here. Aren't I?"

It was true. No one ever got to this point in his life. Even his brother backed off and blamed his stories on delusions. He told him the tragic tale of how his romance ended, how he went from laying in bed with Pan every night to sitting alone in a far away campfire poking at the embers. Wendy was meant to be a bargaining chip, something to keep her brothers in line while they acted as their agents in the world without magic. Whether from lack of contact with women or something unique this girl possessed, Pan fell in love with her and promised to make her queen. Felix was pushed to the side, no longer relevant, so he fled the Lost Boys and spent his days in solitude.

"What made you go back?" Peter asked, both of them sitting on the bed face-to-face as Felix spoke.

"Rufio," Felix said, "Since he came to the island, we became close friends. He took over commanding the Lost Boys while I was gone. During an attack on the island… he died," He unfolded one page, handing it over to Peter, "He died because I wasn't there to lead the boys. That's why I came back."

"And Pan?" Peter asked, "What happened between him and Wendy?"

"I tried to get her off the island. Not because I cared about her or her brothers. I just wanted her _away._ Pan caught me and he…" Felix was silent, a hundred emotions playing on his face, "She rejected him. It was just infatuation. That's all that matters," Felix said, voice quick and stuttering as he hurriedly changed the subject, "In the end, Pan proved that he always loved me more."

"When's that?" Peter asked. When Felix failed to respond, he knew he had dug too deep, he reeled back, placing another comforting hand on his shoulder, "You don't have to answer."

"I'll always believe in him."

Peter tilted his head, "What?"

"He took me back, apologized for what he did, said he made a mistake, and I believe him," Felix said, voice firmer, "Always will."

"I see," Peter murmured, collecting the folded papers Felix meant to throw out, "Let's add these to the timeline then. See? Wasn't so hard to talk about."

Despite Felix's confirmation that Pan apologized for what he did, Peter found no such evidence in the notes. There was no reconciliation, no heartfelt apology, Felix simply returned to camp and continued on his duties to both the boys and to Pan's pleasure. Felix painted Pan as a hero and a lover. Their flow chart painted him as a _tyrant_ who terrorized the Darlings, let his Lost Boys run wild in his death trap of an island, and played Felix like a puppet.

Yet Felix was so convinced Peter Pan was a hero.

"Say, Felix," Peter called out, creeping over on his knees with a coy smirk on his face, "Are you hiding any other notebooks from me?"

Felix's brow furrowed. His cheeks heated up at the accusation, "N-No."

"Really?" Peter said, waving a notebook in the air to cool Felix's face off, "Peter and Felix are _real_ touchy-feely with each other in camp, did you notice that?" Felix didn't reply but the pinkness of his cheeks spoke for him, "Peter Pan and Felix have sex all the time, don't they?" Peter loved it when Felix blushed to his ears, his whole body heating up, "Come on, you sneaky devil, tell me the truth," He latched his arms around Felix's torso so he couldn't get away, "We had a super spicy sex life in your memories, didn't we?"

Felix sputtered with unconvincing laughter, "Y-You're crazy! There's nothing like that in my dreams."

"You can lie to me but your boner can't!" Peter said in a sing-song voice, wrestling Felix down onto his side and laughing into his shoulder, "We're all boys here. Let me read it. Please?"

Using Felix's obvious crush on him against him, Peter _cuddled Felix_ into submission, finally coaxing him to search through his bottom drawers to retrieve a black-covered notebook, "Your 'little black book', I presume," Felix groaned at the wordplay, smacking the notebook onto Peter's chest.

"Don't read it aloud, okay?" Felix said, "It's really cheesy and I'm not putting it into the final copy."

Snickering childishly, Peter flipped open the notebook and read it with a lecherous look, "Deep-throating already? That's kinky," Peter purposely read from the first page, holding back a lunging Felix, "Kidding, kidding! I'll read it quietly!" He rolled onto the floor laughing, too amused by Felix's smut notebook.

The raunchiness contained in the sheets was more than enough to make Peter flush with embarrassment, "I thought Pan and Felix were kids."

"Teenagers," Felix replied, "Right on the cusp of adulthood."

"I wonder what that'd be like. Being hormonal teenagers for the rest of your life," Peter joked, flipping another page and frozen at the explicit description of Felix swallowing both of Peter's balls into his mouth and _suckling on them_ , "Holy shit."

Felix immediately rushed over, grabbing at the notebook only for Peter to pull away, "It was a mistake. I shouldn't have shown you that."

"Come on, you said you'd let me read all of your story. This counts too," Peter leaned away from Felix, purposely holding the smut filled notebook out of reach, "At least let me finish that passage about having a threesome with Pan and _his shadow_ ," He burst into laughter when Felix nearly turned purple in embarrassment, accidentally confirming his implication, "Felix. I'm just kidding, okay?"

The pout on Felix's face was surreal like someone had transplanted a toddler's mouth onto Felix. When Peter handed the notebook back to him, Felix hugged it tightly against his chest, pout refusing to drop as a weariness suddenly came over him. It startled Peter how quickly Felix's mood could change.

"I'm not some horny teenager fantasizing about sex," Felix murmured, "Everything in here _really happened,_ I swear. I pleased him more than anyone else he had ever taken before and Peter loved me for it," He swallowed once, holding the notebook tighter, "So please don't laugh."

"I understand," Peter said even if he didn't, "You were in love. It happens."

Felix lifted his head, relieved that Peter of all people didn't dismiss his explicit stories for self-fulfilling smut. He looked at the notebook once more, no longer ashamed, "Pan always said I was the best he ever had. He said my _tongue_ could get places-"

"Ah, ah, ah," Peter shushed him, holding up a finger over his mouth, "As much as I'm okay with your exciting sex life, I don't need the explicit details here."

Felix snickered loudly, walking back over to the bottom drawer and placing it back inside. Peter nearly returned to his other notes till he saw _a green notebook_ tucked away at the bottom over a pile of sketches. His eyes narrowed, curious that Felix would have another notebook hidden in his 'sacred' drawer.

"I'm starving," Felix said, standing up and stretching his long legs, "We're running out of tacks too. I'll go pick some up with lunch. Coming with?"

Peter knew Felix wanted him to come along but he knew he'd have no other chance to check that hidden notebook, "If you don't mind, I want to work on this a bit more."

"You're not going to read my smut notebook while I'm gone, are you?" Felix grumbled, eyes narrowed childishly when Peter smirked back, "Fine, fine. I'll bring you back a burger."

After their goodbyes and the sound of the door locking behind Felix, Peter snuck back over to the bottom drawer and retrieved the green notebook. He eyed a few sketches at the bottom, quickly noting that some of them had tape at their corners. Somewhere along the timeline, these sketches were taped up on the wall but Felix had ripped them down. He noted the empty spot beside Felix's bed, a perfect plane of emptiness with bits of tape leftover, a sure sign that something was once stuck there.

Paying it no mind for now, Peter returned to the green notebook. Perhaps this was where Wendy's tale was concluded, how Peter and Felix reconciled. He flipped it open, immediately catching Wendy's name scrawled out here and there. He stopped at a passage in the middle which talked about 'the she-devil' locked up in her cage till her brothers fulfil their duty. That had to be Wendy but the passage remained dark in tone. Pan sounded tyrannical, threatening all the boys if they dared help her out. He wondered where Felix was in this. He had yet to appear in the narrative but he must've been there to hear Pan's speech.

_"…second order of business," Peter barked, pacing back and forth before removing the sack off a huddled figure. Felix was kneeling on the dirt floor, wrists bound and mouth gagged, "Felix abandoned his duties and left you boys all alone to fend for yourselves. We lost good boys because of you."_

_Felix kept his head down, shamed by Pan and feeling lower than dirt._

_"Worst of all, this stubborn brat fell in love with our prisoner!"_

_Felix's head snapped upward, betrayed by Peter's accusation. He felt nothing for Wendy. It was Peter who fell head-over-heels in love, wanted her to be his queen while Felix just wanted her off the island, "He tried to get her back home and ruin our plans to save Neverland."_

_Felix protested but was muffled by his gag. He groaned when Peter took him by his wrists, bound neatly on his back in a square. He hauled Peter over to a nearby stump and shoved him against it face down, "No misdeed goes unpunished," Peter declared, reaching into Felix's pants and_ pulling them down into the dirt.

_Felix thrashed against the stump. All the boys were watching. There was no where to hide._

Peter slammed the notebook shut, face pale in horror. This had to be the only moment yet the dog-eared pages spoke differently. He swallowed his fear, hardened his heart, and reopened the notebook, flipping to another page:

_The flames twisted in the breeze, reaching higher than the trees surrounding the clearing. Rufio's body was probably rendered to ash by now. Even from where he stood, Felix could feel the heat of his funeral pyre. All the boys had already left, paying their dues before returning to camp. Only Felix remained, numb and broken._

_This was his fault. If he hadn't ran off from the Lost Boys, hadn't delegated all of his responsibilities onto Rufio, his best friend would still be alive. Hook has delivered an ultimatum to the boys a week ago, promising to hold nothing back should the boys attack again. Felix wasn't there to remind them and this was the price: Rufio's life._

This was Peter's fault _. The accusation was in his thoughts. If Peter never captured the Darlings, if Peter never fell in love with Wendy, if Peter didn't banish Felix with cruel words, Felix would've been there to save Rufio._

_In the deepest part of his mind, hidden in his most treacherous thoughts, Felix wondered if Pan sent Rufio to his death to punish him for disobedience._

_Just as the traitorous thoughts flashed in his mind, a hand reached out from behind him and clutched his lips, silencing him. Felix screamed into the hand,_ _feeling an inhuman amount of strength drag him backwards and into the dirt. Pan glared at him, wild eyed and furious._

_"What do you want?" Felix mumbled, shoving Pan's hand away so he could speak. He shuddered when Pan stuck a hand down the front of his pants, not even bothering to unlace the front as he jerked Felix off, "S-Stop! Not here!"_

_Pan shoved him into the dirt without a word, crushing his body and restraining him with all of Neverland's magic. Felix squirmed under the ungodly amount of weight crushing his body to the ground while Pan wrestled with his clothes._

_"Not here, please not here!" Felix cried out, shoving at Pan to no avail. He might as well have been a fly batting at his forehead. His wrist was pinned down. Pan didn't even bother removing his clothes, simply rolling his pants partway down his hips and shoving himself inside clumsily, maintaining a jerky rhythm as he took Felix under the light of Rufio's funeral pyre._

Another page:

_Felix cried out in pain, beaten into the dirt with a swollen eye and bloodied mouth. He covered his head when Pan approached, begging for mercy with babbles and whines. Peter gave him no reprieve, simply grabbing the front of his tunic and hurling him harshly into the dirt, "It was the wrong boy. How could he be the wrong boy?"_

Peter forced himself to read the next passage, flipping into the middle of the notebook. _Felix screamed till his throat was raw, whole body rooted to the ground as Pan crushed him to the dirt with his heel and yanked out his shadow with his other hands. It sounded like ripping to Felix, like cloth being torn in half, seams snapping away one by one, "This was you. You brought this on yourself!" Pan scolded, pleased when Felix nodded complacently,_ anything to end the pain _._

Peter covered his mouth; he wanted to retch. He turned the page one final time, startled by the empty page with a single sentence scrawled in the middle: _I'm being punished. Pan told me I needed to be._ Peter swallowed, unable to process what that meant. The book was empty after that.

Peter couldn't stomach anymore.He slammed the notebook shut and stuffed it back into the drawer, wiping his hands on his shirt and simply feeling _dirty_. He rubbed at his arms, feeling goosebumps all over. His eyes met the timeline he constructed with Felix. How did those stories fit in? Felix spoke of Peter like a god, his hero, yet here was direct proof that Felix wrote down with his own hands, showcasing Peter's tyranny.

_He abused Felix_ when he didn't comply. Pan was kind when he wanted to be, soft and loving when it pleased him, but cruel and harsh when things didn't fall the way he wanted them to.

Felix must've known. He wrote those memories down. He had no time to contemplate on his actions, hearing the front door open, Felix's footsteps coming up the stairs with a paper bag of greasy fast food, "Lunch," He called out, immediately catching Peter's flustered look, "Peter? Something wrong?"

Peter knew Felix wasn't a fool. He was too quiet at the table, overstuffing his face with food to distract Felix from trying to make a conversation, "Did I do something wrong?" Felix inquired, looking up from his burger.

"No!" Peter exclaimed, surprised by Felix's question, "Of course not. Why would you say that?"

Felix shrugged lazily, "You look upset."

"It's not you. I promise," Peter reassured, putting his burger down, "There's just something on my mind."

A small smile on Felix's lips, "You can tell me if it'll make you feel better."

Peter let out a short chuckle, forever amazed by the soft expression on Felix's usually brooding face, "It's… well, promise me you won't get offended?" Felix nodded in agreement, "I was wondering, did 'Pan' ever mistreat you?"

Immediately, the glee in Felix's face died, "No," He spoke out again when Peter opened his mouth to respond, "Pan loved me. He was always kind to me."

_He's protecting him_ , "So he never lost his temper? Or maybe started arguing with you?"

"Sometimes, but it never got out of hand," Felix replied, his voice even and truthful despite the blatant lies.

Peter swallowed, knowing his next question would infuriate Felix, "What about what happened with Wendy?"

Felix bit his lip, ducking his head nervously, "That was different. Pan forgave me in the end. That's all that matters," His words were evasive. Pan's cruelty was too much for Felix to cover so he tried to avoid Peter's prodding altogether.

This was going no where. Felix would never rat Pan out. Pan was his lover, his king, _his master_ , Felix devoted everything to him. There was no way in hell Felix would betray Pan to Peter, just a boy who happened to share the face of his lover. _Perhaps…_

Peter swallowed, taking a leap of faith, "I know I treated you poorly sometimes," He said, voice low and confident just like how Felix constantly described it, "What did I do to you? How can I fix it?"

_Felix wasn't a fool_. He saw right through Peter's ridiculous ruse. His voice wasn't even the right accent. Yet, since the day his memories returned, this was the closest he had ever been to _Pan_ in a very long time. He released his inhibitions, wet his lips in anticipation, _let his delusions take over,_ "Sometimes."

Peter stared at him, wide-eyed and curious, "Like what?"

Felix sat back down, fidgeting with the leftover ketchup packets on the table, "Sometimes, when you were in a bad mood, _you'd beat me._ N-Not because you hated me but because you were just so frustrated so you…" Felix cut himself off, mouth snapping shut, "You didn't mean to. I swear" _It's hard being the king of Neverland,_ "It's hard being the king of Neverland," _I wish I could control it; I really do_ , "You wished you could control your power better."

"What happened with Wendy? What did I do?"

Peter's words were blunt yet sharp, a twisting pain in Felix's gut. Even now, Felix could never reject a direct order from Pan. He fisted his hands together, resting them on his knees as he spoke, "I tried to get Wendy off the island and failed but that's not all I did," He hung his head, "I betrayed you. I told her all these _horrible lies_ about you. I told her about _Baelfire_ and how we held him captive just like her. _I wanted her to hate you._ "

Felix hung his head lower, eyes wide and empty as he continued on in a still voice, "You caught me and you said I needed to be punished," He shut his eyes, nodding frantically, "Y-You were right. I did. I deserved it."

Peter feared pressing forward. All he wanted was for Felix to see that Pan was not the messiah he imagined him as, wanted Felix to break away from his fantasies using that as a catalyst. He reached forward, taking Felix's hands from his lap and placing them on the table.

"Stop. You don't have to continue," Peter said, patting the back of his wrist to calm him.

"Every time you beat me, every time you took me against my will," Felix's voice was monotonous, his face still, eyes unblinking and hollow, "You'd remind me that you saved my life and you'd just hold that over my head."

" _Felix…_ "

The forlorn boy looked up, staring right into Peter's face with a delicate smile and still-empty eyes, "But you're here now and I forgive you," He took Peter's hands into his own, covering them completely with his bony palms, "I'll always believe in you," He stared into Peter's eyes and saw someone else staring back.

_"I didn't mean to hurt you. I swear."_

"Of course you didn't," Felix said, voice breathy, punctuating his words with a chuckle.

_A hand caressing his face, soft lips pressing all over his forehead, "I love you. I'll always love you."_

Felix shut his eyes and leaned in, claimed Pan's lips in a kiss. He nearly lost himself in the softness and warmth of his lover, nearly threw himself into his embrace till Pan _shoved him back harshly and cried out._

"Felix!" Peter cried out, stumbling off his chair and staring at Felix incredulously. His face was flushed with embarrassment, breath shallow as he tried to comprehend what came over Felix.

The boy was in a trance, mind lost somewhere in his fantasies while his body moved on its own. He couldn't hear Peter's protests, didn't feel the boy trying to pull away. Shaken back to his wretched reality, Felix leapt off his chair and backed off, pacing back and forth as he grounded himself.

"I-I-I- _shit_ , I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" Felix gasped out, "I didn't- I was- God, I'm so sorry _Pan_ -" He cut himself off, "Fuck! I mean _Peter_ ," He mumbled to himself, clutching his forearms and shivering like the temperature of the room suddenly dropped, "Peter. _Peter_. Not Pan. Not Pan…"

For a brief moment, lost in his delusions, lips finally meeting Pan's after years of simple memories, Felix really did look like a completely different person: Happy, loved, confident, no longer the pathetic outcast who cowered at the slightest confrontation. In that brief moment, Peter saw the real Felix hidden away in his fantasies, unbroken by Pan's cruel games, and Peter swore his heart _fluttered_. Now reduced to a frantic, babbling mess, it would be a sin if Peter refused to fix this.

Peter approached Felix with slow, steady steps, a cool, confident look on his face. He took Felix's arm, turning the boy around before embracing him with all his strength _._ Felix gasped, his tirade cut short by Peter's heartbeat pressed against his chest, "W-What…" Before he could inquire, Peter shut his eyes and pressed their lips together. The struggling stopped, the trembling stopped, _Felix stopped_ and for a short moment in his life, the plague that was his unrelenting memories stopped as well.

_Clarity._ Peter was clarity. As soon as the gears in Felix's head stopped spinning out of control, Felix regained control of his body and threw his arms around Peter, shutting his eyes and deepening the kiss.

 

"You're not even working anymore," Peter joked, nudging at Felix who kept a goofy smile on his face since lunch.

"I am!" Felix replied, a smile in his voice as he continued organizing passages into neat piles. He paused briefly, sighing dreamily as he kneaded at the cuffs of his sweater, "I can't stop thinking about it."

Peter knew Felix would take it the wrong way. He only meant to calm him down, shake him out of his hysteria with a simple kiss but the longer he held their lips together, the longer he allowed Felix to weave his fingers through his hair, the more difficult it was to pull away. Peter touched a hand to his lips, small smile on his face when he remembered their kiss. Of all the girls and boys he dated, Felix was the best kisser, hands down, like he had decades worth of practice.

"You were right."

Peter looked to Felix, curious.

"Pan did do terrible things to me," Felix said. He crawled over to his desk, opening the bottom drawer and taking out the vile notebook with all of his dirty secrets. He pressed a palm against the cover, shutting his eyes as if just simple contact with the book gave him pain, "When he was in a bad mood, he made me feel lower than dirt."

Peter kept his eyes on Felix, taking in all his pain. Felix never opened up to anyone, even hiding his worst memories from himself yet here they were, sitting together in Felix's room once more talking about Pan's dark side.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Peter offered, seeing the pain twisting in Felix's features.

Felix shook his head with a pained smile, "No. I should," He flipped through the notebook, his pain documented in endless passages flashing in front of his eyes, "It was a part of my life. What Pan did to me _defines me_ ," He flipped to the end, his expression far more pained at the single sentence on a blank page at the end of the notebook, "Pan was involved with so much good in my life. He made me happy in so many ways, so many times; I can't hate him for _this_ ," He leaned back against the foot of his bed, taking in the notebook scraps stacked all over, the corkboard chronicling all of Felix's life, all of them _happy_ memories except for a few brief moments in his centuries of life, "That's why I can't hate him, not even for what he did."

Peter didn't know what he could say. He wondered if he could ever be so forgiving or if he'd hold a grudge against Pan forever, latent hatred sitting at the base of his heart like mold. He never lived for centuries though, never experienced life for more than sixteen years. He wouldn't understand.

"I understand," Peter said even if he didn't.

"P-Peter," Felix murmured, "Can I…Can I-Can I kiss you again?"

Peter narrowed his eyes, confused yet somehow _excited_. He smiled, nodding to him, and laughing when Felix crashed into him and crushed their lips together. He figured they could take a small break, somehow ending up on Felix's bed smothering each other with kisses like they'd loved each other for years.

 

There were only a couple stacks of notes left, just a little bit more and they'd be ready to type up the first draft of Felix's past life. It was well into night by the time they finished and for dinner, the two simply lounged around in Felix's room staring at their completed storyboard, leaning over a near endless supply of memories scrawled onto notebook paper.

Felix bit into his taco, wiping at his lips absently as his eyes remained glued to the corkboard, "We did it."

"Don't get too excited," Peter replied, tossing a couple nachos into his mouth, "We still have to type everything up," He wrinkled his nose when Felix stole a handful of nachos from him, stuffing it into his mouth with a toothy smile while Peter seethed playfully.

In the last two days, Peter learned more about Felix than anyone else in the world. He went from the awkward, disturbed loner at school to _Felix_ , a boy of a hundred talents and a hundred memories, "Has anyone else ever tried to put the story together?"

"I did," Felix replied, finishing up his taco and wiping up his hands, "Could never keep track of it all on my own," He lifted his knees from the ground, resting his elbows upon them as he continued staring at the storyboard almost in disbelief, "I tried to tell my brother and my therapist. They both thought I was crazy. I mean, they never said it out loud but I knew that was on their minds."

Peter blinked, Felix's words triggering something.

"They patronized me. Played along when I told them stories but whenever it was their turn to talk, it was always about my _imagination_ ," Felix scoffed, "I didn't think anyone would ever believe me."

_Do I believe him?_

"You know," Felix murmured, looking to Peter with a wide smile, "In this world, technically you're the first person I've ever kissed," He reached forward, taking Peter's hands in a far too intimate way, "When we're done, let's go somewhere together. Somewhere with forests and nature, maybe a camping trip. It'll be just like old times."

"Aren't you moving a bit fast?" Peter said.

Felix shook his head, "You always hated it when I took my time. You liked to tease but didn't like being teased," His brow lifted as he explained, voice sultry as he spoke, "You kiss exactly like you used to."

The dreaminess in Felix's eyes, how Peter's heart quickened at Felix's touch, Peter hadn't even realized how entranced he was with Felix. Peter gasped when Felix leaned in and pecked him on the nose, nibbling at the tip being backing off with a mischievous smile. Biting his lip in anticipation, Peter reached forward, brushing Felix's crooked scar sweetly, "Makes you look dangerous."

"That's what Pan said too," Felix replied, almost giggling at Peter's touch, "It was the best thing the pirates ever gave to me, ironically."

"How did you get the scar in this world?" Peter asked, curiously noting how _clean_ it was unlike the rugged battle scar the Felix of Neverland had.

Felix shook his head, blushing shyly, "I can't tell you."

"Come on," Peter nudged his shoulder, "You can tell me anything," He snickered when Felix refused, crawling up closer to him so he could _run his nose against the scar_ , "Please?"

Felix groaned at the touch. He threw his arms around Peter's waist and rolled him onto the floor, "Peter Pan!" He exclaimed, smiling down at Peter and pleased to find Peter accepting the name and smiling back, " _Pan_ ," Felix hummed, lowering himself till his lips met Peter's.

Peter groaned, taking Felix into his arms, running his hands all over his sweater till he memorized Felix's body. This was absurd; he'd only known Felix for a couple days, a week at best, but combing through his memories, seeing the true Felix under his awkward, recluse persona, Peter felt like he'd known Felix for centuries.

"Let's take a break," Peter whispered into Felix's lips, staring into his eyes, "We've got all the time in the world to type this up."

"I've got somewhere nice to relax," Felix said, standing up and hauling Peter along in his arms.

 

"School really wasn't what I was thinking of when you said you had a nice place to relax," Peter commented, chuckling when Felix shot him a glare.

Despite Peter's claims, the two made their way past the school grounds and up the abandoned clock tower. Peter remembered finding Felix here perched against the brick staring out at the open balcony. At night time when the stars were visible, Felix invited Peter onto the balcony and lay down two blankets for them to sit on.

"Is it safe?" Peter asked, laying down despite his question.

"I've been here almost every other day and I'm still alive, aren't I?" Felix replied, a quirk in his brow that made Peter swoon. He lay down beside Peter, propping up his head on his hands, "Don't be scared. I'm here."

Peter rolled his eyes, "I'm _not_ scared," He looked up at the sky, noting how the stars were so much more visible when they were above the city lights, "So you just come here to watch the stars?"

Felix nodded, pointing towards the moon, "The second star on the right. That one's my favourite. It was a guiding light towards a series of portal that travelled between realms."

Peter chuckled at his explanation, "So we could use that portal to fly to Neverland?"

Felix nodded eagerly, "Makes me feel a bit closer to Pan, knowing that Neverland is still there, _somewhere_."

"Is that why you started watching the stars?" Peter asked, turning to Felix, "To look for Neverland?"

To his surprise, Felix shook his head, "It started when I was little," Felix said, "I used to hunt for shooting stars so I could wish upon them."

"What did you wish for? Peter Pan?" Peter joked, startled when Felix suddenly took his hand.

A forlorn look on his face, Felix said, "I used to wish the memories would go away," His eyes flickered to Peter's face. The concern in his eyes made Felix clutch his hand tighter, "I was in middle school when they started coming to me. They didn't make any sense and sometimes, they were terrifying. All I wanted was for it to stop so I could be normal," He looked back to the sky, eyeing the brightest star just right of the moon, "But that was the past. I've embraced my memories now and I'm so glad I did."

"Why's that?" Peter asked, pleasantly surprised when Felix crept over beside him on his blanket.

"Because you believe me," Felix said, holding Peter's hand with both of his, "That's all I care about," He rolled onto his side, no longer staring at the stars in the sky but still just as amazed, "You're the greatest thing that's ever happened to me."

"I've never had anyone say that to me before," Peter replied, enjoying Felix's warmth against his arm, "Thank you for showing me your world."

"Thank you for _being a part of it_ ," Felix replied, both of them no longer interested in the stars in the sky. His expression softened the more he stared into Peter's eyes, losing himself in them, he reached out and held his cheeks, pressing their lips together.

Peter groaned in reply, needy and desperate just like him as he rolled himself on top of Felix, pressing their hips together too intimately. Right here, right now, nothing else mattered to Peter. All he wanted was Felix, his heart, his body, and his soul. His hands raked under Felix's sweater, lifting it over his head as he warmed his body with caresses.

Bucking into his hips, twitching at every touch, Felix writhed under Peter's body. Every single hot spot, _the same spots that Pan memorized in Neverland_ , Peter peppered each spot with scratches, caresses, and kisses. Felix curled into him, clutching at him when their chests touched and kissing him with such desperation, he almost wept. He stuffed his hands into Peter's jeans, waiting patiently for protest but when nothing came, he unbuttoned his jeans and rolled them down his legs, scrambling to take off their clothes yet remain connected throughout.

From the passion in his eyes, the eagerness of his touch, Felix knew Peter felt the same. Under the stars where Neverland watched over him from, Peter and Felix were joined for hours on that rickety clock tower.


	4. Tell me of a story never told in the past

_"Oh my god_ ," Peter snickered, hand over his mouth while he lay under the blankets Felix had brought along to the clock tower, "I can't believe we just did that."

Felix was on his side, completely bare save for the blanket just over his lap. His head was propped up on his hand, gleefully watching Peter lie flat on his back meekly staring at the sky. The way he acted was so _virgin_ , it was something Felix had never once observed from Pan.

"How was I?" Felix asked, all smiles and blushes when Peter looked at him.

" _Amazing_ ," Peter replied, "That thing you did on my dick," He choked on his words, his cheeks crimson, "Where did you learn all that?" He snickered when Felix walked two fingers up his chest, "That tickles."

Felix continued walking the fingers, loving how sensitive Peter's body was to his touch, "Pan and I had centuries to perfect it. Sometimes when there was nothing to do, we'd practice on each other _all day_ , _every day._ "

"You didn't put that in your storyboard," Peter snickered, slapping Felix's hand away, "Don't let anyone know, alright? If my parents find out, they're going to freak."

Felix was so used to a publicly known relationship, Peter's insistence on secrecy was unnatural to him. Nonetheless, he agreed, never one to reject a command from Pan. After a brief nap, the two eventually made their way back to Felix's house, both of them collapsing on the couches in exhaustion to sleep.

Peter was fast asleep, another oddity that Felix couldn't stop himself from pointing out. Felix always fell asleep first; he was the mortal, after all. Despite the ecstasy and overwhelming happiness, Felix could not stop himself from pointing out all the little differences. He stroked Peter's hair, noting how even the part in his hair was slightly different.

He appreciated Peter's intimacy, adored how someone finally believed in him, _but Peter wasn't quite there yet._ He wasn't Pan, not yet.

 

_Almost done…_ Felix wove the reeds tightly, binding the bamboo together. He smiled at his handiwork: A set of Pan pipes for Peter. He looked to the sleeping boy on the couch, sighing happily at how peaceful he looked when he slept. His memories could wait; Peter was the most important thing to him right now.

While Peter continued to sleep, Felix started on breakfast, taking his brother's usual supplies and preparing a perfect meal, something _Pan_ would have loved.

_"Felix! It's breakfast time," Pan said, plopping himself down on a table he materialized in front of the fire place, "Make me something to eat," He created an entire kitchen inside of his tree house with just a wave of his hand, cupboards packed full with more food than Felix had ever seen back in the Enchanted Forest._

_"What do you want to eat?" Felix asked, taking out a bowl of eggs and fresh wild mushrooms._

_Peter shrugged. It didn't matter to him. Watching Felix cook was all he really wanted. He loved it when Felix's multi-tasked, the perkiness as he whipped a couple eggs, chopped up mushrooms, stirred a boiling pot of oatmeal, and took a sip of cider all in one movement. It took the boy decades to master this. Peter could still remember Felix's first time cooking and how he nearly burned down the tree house._

_Eyes narrow, chin lifted, Peter watched Felix with a smirk as the boy served him a wild mushroom omelette with a side of honey oatmeal. He waited beside Pan attentively, eagerly waiting for the boy to sample his food. If he did well, Pan would reward him with a game, sometimes even a trip to another world. If he wasn't, Felix expected to spend the rest of the day in a cage, all in jest, of course._

_Peter smiled to him, a good sign. He culled Felix in, planting a kiss on his lips and transferring honey oats onto his tongue, "Very good."_

_Felix smiled, opening his lips to deepen their kiss and spread honey between their tongues._

The memory was more than enough to speed Felix up. He smiled at the plethora of food decorating the dining table, completed before Peter even lifted his head. He looked over the edge of the couch, meeting Peter's tired eyes as he announced, "Breakfast."

"Bacon, chicken pot pie, pancakes!" Peter declared, sitting at the table across Felix and ecstatic, "Is this what always happens when I wake up after sex?" Felix blushed but maintained his smug look, "I can get used to this."

Felix noted that Peter gravitated towards the maple syrup and brown-sugar oatmeal. He liked sweets, just as Pan had, "Do you like cake?"

Peter perked up, "I love cake. Especially chocolate cake," He hummed thoughtfully, "Didn't _Pan_ really like cake? I seem to remember he used to send Captain Hook to other worlds just to get cakes."

"He did!" Felix replied, nearly bouncing around in his chair with joy, "You remembered."

"Of course I remembered," Peter replied, brow _quirking upward_ , "Every other page had some mention of cakes," He cut a small piece of pancake, dipping it into maple syrup and watching the strands of syrup twist on his fork, "Are we going to start typing it up today?"

"Um… I had another idea," Felix said, sipping his orange juice shyly.

"The answer's no. We're not having sex all day," Peter replied, snickering when Felix spat out his orange juice, " _Kidding_ , Felix," He reclined in his seat, sweeping a hand through his sweat-slicked hair, "I still can't believe what happened last night. I haven't even- I've never-"

Felix lit up at his words, "It was my first time too."

Peter sputtered, "As if! That thing you did with your hips, there's no way you got it on first go."

It was Felix's turn to glow while Peter stuttered shyly, "Neverland. Remember? So I guess it's not my _first_ time ever," He picked up a piece of bacon, snacking on it casually, "But in this world, I've never slept with anyone before."

In the heat of the moment, with the fewest words he could muster, Peter willingly ravished Felix on the clock tower. For anyone else, this could never have happened. Felix knew it was Pan's will, seeping through Peter, convincing him to bed Felix, _proof of Pan's existence._ He sighed lovingly, wishing he could box this happiness up and keep forever.

No work was going to be done today. Felix and Peter spent their entire morning lounging around on the couch watching Rufus's bizarre foreign movies. Peter leafed through the DVDs, pulling out a Japanese animation, "What's this one?"

Felix took it from Peter, examining the cover and recognizing the actress, "It's about a girl who is secretly god and those around her try to keep her in check."

" _Try_ to keep her in check," Peter repeated, smacking Felix lightly over the head before throwing himself on the couch, "Spoilers."

"You want to watch it? It's subtitled," Felix said. Peter shrugged lazily, the air of a child king to him and his gesture. Obliging, Felix popped the DVD in and started the anime.

Several episodes in, Peter and Felix ordered take out and were sprawled on top of each other eating fried noodles from paper containers. With the peppy ending theme playing in the background, Peter figured this was an excellent time to start prodding Felix with his socked foot.

"Yes, Peter?" Felix said, putting his takeout container down to shove Peter's foot aside.

"Just wanted your attention," Peter replied, shuffling over to Felix and gingerly poking his face, "Still haven't told me about your scar."

Felix shook his head, turning down the volume so he could hear Peter more clearly, "It's…stupid. You wouldn't want to know."

"I want to know everything about you," Peter murmured, taking his hand.

For a brief moment, Felix's expression seemed to soften more, his chest filled with a warmth and rhythm, "When I started getting dreams about Neverland," He started, shyly tugging at his sweater, "I always wanted to make myself closer to the Felix in my dreams. So I started wearing hooded clothes, growing my hair out and making a mess of it," Felix took Peter's hand and held it against his scarred cheek, "But I need _this_ the most. Pan always told me how much he loved my scar. So, when my brother was out, I carved it into my face."

Peter's hand twitched against his own but Felix didn't notice.

"It was perfectly safe. I disinfected my father's old hunting knife, cleansed my face, had plenty of bandages and cloth on hand to stop the bleeding, and I bought antibiotics in case it got infected."

The calmness in which Felix spoke of his injury was _disturbing_. Felix didn't act the slightest bit bothered, his lips still curled into a pleasant smile.

Peter opened his mouth to speak but found Felix suddenly scurrying away, sorting through his drawers.

"That reminds me. I've got a gift for you," Felix said, reaching for Peter's set of pan pipes.

Peter took it, chuckling as he tried to ignore Felix's grim words, "Don't know how to play it though."

From his sweater pocket, Felix took out his own set of pipes, "Let me show you."

After a short demonstration, Felix proceeded to play a tune while Peter practiced, slowly growing _aggravated_ with how Peter failed to follow his instructions. Felix sighed heavily, lifting his lips from his pipes, "You're still blowing into it. You're supposed to blow across the holes, not into it."

Exasperated, Peter shrugged to Felix and lowered the pipes, "Why don't I just listen to you play? I'm more of a guitar person."

"You have to learn!" Felix barked suddenly, furious before reeling himself in at the sight of Peter startled, "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell," He lowered his head, tucking himself under his hood nervously and hoping Peter wouldn't be mad.

"It's okay," Peter replied, putting his pan pipes onto Felix's desk, "It's my fault. I never paid attention when they introduced the band instruments," He leaned in _too close_ , his hand intimately on Felix's shoulder, "What's with that sad look?"

Pan always cured his melancholy one way.

Felix lifted his head and stole a kiss, shutting his eyes and waiting for reciprocation. He gasped when Peter pulled away, covering his mouth abruptly, "W-What…"

Again and again, _Felix screwed up._ He backed off, stuffing his hands into his pockets and shuffling away.

A smirk on Peter's face, "So you're thinking about it too?" Felix's head perked up, curious, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. Maybe that's why I can't concentrate on the pan pipes."

"W-What?" It was Felix's turn to be utterly confused. He got the idea soon enough when Peter crashed into his lips, hands scraping through his hair and down his clothes. He closed his eyes, reaching forward and groping at Peter explicitly. He groaned into his mouth, pulling Peter back and admiring the string of saliva on his tongue. If Pan were here, he would've teleported them to their treehouse right away. Felix did the next best thing and carried Peter to the bedroom upstairs.

 

_Pan's touch_ was fresh on his body from the night before, caressing every single one of his hot spots with such strength, Felix swore marks were left all over him. Now, _with Pan_ , under a pristine roof in the starless daylight, _everything felt wrong._

"Wait…" Felix murmured, lifting Peter's mouth from where it lapped at his nipple, "Why are you doing that?"

Peter quirked his right brow, "You did it to me last night. Thought you'd enjoy it."

Diverting his attention elsewhere, Peter continuously swept his hands over Felix's body, petting him like a cat. Felix twitched under his touch, the feathery strokes too gentle to affect him. _Pan was rough_ ; Pan groped him till he bruised. Peter was being too cautious, too soft. He had trouble getting the condom on and was clumsy as he entered Felix, hands slipping on the sheets, hips snapping upward at an awkward, slow rhythm.

Felix rotated his hips, trying to guide Peter but failing as the boy continued his shallow, clunky movements, "P-Peter, let me-" He grunted when Peter rammed into his nose, "You can speed it up a bit."

"It's hard to move," Peter replied, perched over Felix in an utterly un-erotic way. He looked more like he was checking under his bed than having sex. His hands were on Felix's backboard, trying to get more leverage while Felix's body remained untouched and unpleased.

By the time Peter got into a decent rhythm, the boy was red hot and about to come, hips snapping up erratically while Felix was barely hard, Peter missing every one of his hot spots and thrusting too clumsily to be arousing.

Gripping into the sheets, _unlike Pan who always grabbed Felix's hair_ , Peter came with a whining grunt, flopping on top of Felix lazily and immediately noticing Felix's flaccid cock against his stomach, "I, um, did you already come?" Felix groaned, shoving off the bed and collecting his clothes, "Was I that bad?" Peter asked, brows knitted together.

"How did you do it last night?" Felix asked, perplexed how _perfect_ Peter was last night and how much of a mess he was today.

Peter shrugged, "You led me through it."

"Through what?" Felix pondered.

"All of it," Peter replied, "You even told me where to put my hands."

Memories of him and Peter on the clock tower, of _Pan_ in Peter's place, guiding his hands, were clarified by Peter's words. _Felix's hands_ over Peter's, guiding him, pressing with enough force to bruise. Felix climbing over Peter, leg swinging over his body as he lined them up and shoved Peter inside of him, moving entirely on his own without Peter's help. _Peter hit all his hotspots because Felix guided him to._

"I'll work on it, alright?" Peter said, sliding off the bed and already pulling on his boxers, "I'll ask a couple friends, watch a couple 'movies', then we can work on it till I get it right."

"Pan never got it wrong!" Felix barked, glaring at Peter.

"Well I'm not Pan now, am I?" Peter snarled, "This is what this is about, isn't it? You're not sleeping with me because you _like_ me. You're sleeping with me because you think I'm Pan!"

_Yes. This was exactly what it was._ Felix bit down on his lip, realizing that Peter spoke the truth. What he wanted, what he'll want for the rest of his life, was _Peter Pan_ , "N-No, that's not-" He gasped when Peter stormed out of the room with his clothes, heading into the guest room after collecting his things and shutting the door behind him,

Peter was utterly silent. He looked to the pan pipes he had unknowingly taken with him. A gift, Felix called it but Peter knew what it was: _Something to make him closer to Pan_. Just like the scar on his face, if Pan had any deformities to him, Felix would gladly carve it into him for the sake of his _past life_.

_Past life… I mean fantasies. Delusions._

Peter wasn't sure when the line between belief and pity blurred. _I'll make Felix normal_ , that was the goal he told Brad, to pull Felix out from his recluse, imaginary world. His eyes flickered to the door, wondering when he became so entranced by his _stories_ , not memories. He almost lost himself. His eyes landed on his phone in his pocket; he forgot to call Brad. He forgot to work on his song with Emily. He forgot _everything_ , because of Felix.

 

"You did WHAT?"

Peter rolled his eyes, yanking the phone away from his ear when Brad shouted, "It seemed like a good idea at the time," He glanced out the window, noticing that he spent at least several hours in the guest room with just his laptop and clothes, "I don't know what I was thinking so no, don't ask."

"You punched your V-card with a psychopath!"

"I get it!" Peter grumbled, rubbing at the crease between his eyebrows, "How did I let him talk me into this?"

"Psychos are really persuasive," Brad said, "Did you know Ted Bundy actually had _fan girls_? He even married one in the end."

Peter rolled his eyes, "Why are you so fascinated with serial killers?"

He imagined Brad shrugging, "I read a book. Not the point here, you should get away from him. Tell him your parents are worried."

Peter knew he had to before Felix's world completely swallowed him just as it swallowed Felix. The last two days were a haze, smothered by Felix's "memories" till he somehow convinced himself that they were _real_. He brought a hand to his lips, realizing that he kissed Felix despite barely knowing him for more than a week, let alone _having sex_ twice.

Maybe Brad was right. Peter sighed heavily, hearing Felix leave the bathroom, "I have to go. Talk to you later."

"'Night, man," Brad quickly said before Peter tucked his phone into his back pocket.

Facing the music, Peter unlocked the guest room and stepped out, finding himself face to face with Felix who rushed out to greet him. The two stared at each other awkwardly till Peter realized Felix was waiting for Peter's instruction, "Oh," Peter grunted out, "Look, let's just forget about what happened and get some sleep," Felix nodded, that once innocent smile suddenly _creepy_ with Peter's new perspective, "So I have-"

"Do you want to share my room?" Felix asked, "You can take the bed if you want."

Peter completely forgot that he had shared Felix's bed the night before. It felt like such a natural thing to do; it hadn't even registered on Peter's mind. He cleared his throat loudly, "No, I prefer the couch."

"Are you sure?" Felix asked, always responding to Peter without pause, "I can sleep on the couch and you can take the bed. Or if you want, I can set up the guest room. Whatever you want-"

"Felix!" Peter shouted, startling him, "I'm fine. Okay?"

Felix's mouth snapped shut, red with embarrassment as he nodded fast, "Mm. Goodnight Peter," He stumbled backwards, eyes locked onto Peter's entirely as he shut the door between them.

_Pity_. Peter reasoned with himself. _Pity_ was the guilty pain in his chest and nothing more. He took his phone out again, dialing up Emily's number as he made his way to the living room.

 

_Smells like roast meat._ Peter grumbled as he rolled onto his back, opening his eyes to the plain beige ceiling of Felix's living room. He wondered if this was all just a dream, staying at home with a delusional boy obsessively in love with him. The worst part was that he almost reciprocated his feelings. He sighed heavily, rolling into his side so he could face the couch.

Felix felt so right. Kissing him, holding him, laughing with him, Peter never felt so right with anyone else. He couldn't forget why he came here, couldn't forget what Felix based himself on: _Delusions_ about a romance that never existed. He was a lonely boy, unable to handle reality so he wrote himself an epic tale within his own mind.

_I'm an idiot. I was supposed to help him_. Peter sat up slowly. Quite the contrary to his goals, it was Felix who ended up roping Peter into his fantasies and Peter only made them _worse_ , made him believe Peter was actually a part of his delusions. He looked to the kitchen, flinching when he noticed Felix staring at him the entire time.

"Morning," Felix greeted, mixing something in the frying pan, "I made breakfast."

Had Peter slept peacefully through the night instead of texting Emily and Brad anxiously at every hour, he may have been able to appreciate the plethora of food Felix prepared. It was like a mini buffet spread along a single table, the vibrant colours the table was decorated in were a feast in their own way.

"For meats, I've got bacon and sausages. For eggs, you can choose between scrambled, fried, and soft-boiled," Felix rounded the table, noting everything he made, "There's fresh toast, potato hash, and a small tomato-balsamic salad I've made on the side. And for drinks," He reached into the fridge, pulling out a carton of orange juice, apple juice, and a bottle of 2% milk. He dropped them all in front of Peter, jittery as he stood before him, "Enjoy."

Peter nodded to him, an ache in his chest spoiling all the food Felix prepared. He glanced over to the glass, wondering if Felix had anything alcoholic to start the day. He started with the bacon, sweeping several pieces onto his plate before reaching for the toast and unnervingly realizing that _Felix was still standing there watching him._

He glanced up warily, "Yes?"

"Do you like it?" Felix asked, fidgeting once more and maintaining constant, unwavering eye contact.

"It's nice, thank you," Felix still didn't move from his spot, "Well? Are you eating?" Peter asked, brows furrowed when Felix shook his head, "Why not?"

"I'm punishing myself."

The food in his mouth suddenly turned to ash. Peter nearly gagged at his words, "What?"

"I upset you last night," Felix said, hanging his head, "I want to make it up to you."

Peter groaned, rubbing at his forehead, "Damn it. Sit down and eat!" He commanded, somehow more angered when Felix did exactly as he asked and sat down by the table, "No. Don't-" He groaned again, tossing his fork on the table, "Felix. Don't punish yourself for something like that."

"I'm sorry, Pan," Felix murmured, "I just wanted to make you happy."

"Peter!" Peter corrected, realizing that Felix too was losing grip with reality.

Felix's mouth fell open, gaping for a while when he realized Peter corrected him. He swallowed, ducking his head and keeping his eyes averted, "Peter," He repeated himself, "I _never_ want you to be upset."

"I need to go."

Peter's words stunned Felix, the emptiness in his form returning to him as he leapt to his feet, "W-Why?"

"I just need some space, alright? I barely talked with Brad or Emily this whole time, we still have to work on our song which I haven't even touched at all," Peter babbled out his excuses, trying his best not to look at Felix and see his expression drop with disappointment, "We've already assembled the notes. You can type it up on your own, can't you?"

"Thought it was something we could do together and we still have to make up an ending," Felix mumbled, kneading at the end of his sweater, the tremble returning to his shoulders, "Please tell me what I did wrong. I'll fix it. I swear."

_Cutting your face to make yourself closer to your delusions._

_Giving me pan pipes so you could do the same to me_

_Seducing me so you could mold me into someone else_

Peter didn't know where to start, "All the things you've shown me. I'm _flattered_ , I really am but I can't cut myself off from everyone just to stay here with you," He didn't notice how Felix froze at 'flattered', too concerned with his own situation, "I'll see you tomorrow, alright?"

Felix shut his eyes and hung his head, rummaging through the events of last night and wondering just _what did he do wrong_. He was too weird, too unnatural, gleefully talking about carving up his face. He was too forward, trying to force Peter into Pan's image. He was too presumptuous, thinking Peter would share the bed of someone he barely knew.

"Peter," Felix called out, catching the boy before he left the kitchen, "Stay for breakfast?"

"Made plans for breakfast."

"Then your number?" Felix choked out, his voice sounding like a sob, "Please?" Another rejection and Felix would've crumbled. Sensing this, Peter wrote his number down and slid it over to Felix. In return, Felix reached into his pocket and handed Peter his home key. His friend took it reluctantly, giving him a nod before heading out.

In the silence of his empty house, Felix screamed and threw Peter's breakfast to the ground.

 

"As I take your hand, I run past you; my heart's memories fade away," Peter sang quietly in the coffee shop with Brad keeping the beat with a pen tapping on the table, "I know that this is what I want. This is what I need: The memory of you that will repeat tomorrow," Emily nodded along, strumming her fingers in the air to match Peter's tune, "This distorted world that suddenly appeared, will never disappear," He smirked, loving the chorus that he wrote, "I already shut up away such pointless, ordinary, unchanging days because what I desired-"

"Your triple-triple," The waitress announced, dropping a plastic cup that was more cream and sugar than coffee in front of Brad.

"Thank you," He said, taking the drink and sipping at the whipped cream top, "Ah, I love this place."

Emily shook her head with a smile, "I like it. It goes with the theme of the song, fits the previous chorus. We should apply to play at the school dance next month."

"We gotta make more songs then," Brad said, reclining in his chair, "There's no way we can play this one. It bums me out."

Peter snickered, realizing that their song really was not party-friendly, "It's meant to be thought provoking and deep."

"I don't even know what it's about," Brad replied with a shrug.

"It's based off a short story," Emily explained, "About a boy whose true love died when he was young, grew up, but wishes he could've been young forever so he could be with her."

Brad chuckled, figuring that Emily and Peter would pick such a melodramatic story to base their song off, "What's the story called? Maybe I'll search it up for inspiration."

"My Neverland."

Peter choked on his green tea, splattering it all over the table and into Brad's coffee.

"Whoa! Hey, not cool," Brad replied, frowning at the dissolved cream in his cup, "Oh well," He promptly said, sipping his coffee anyway.

Emily blinked several times, startled by Peter's incredulous reaction, "Are you okay?"

He remembered picking out that story with Emily, he remembered how much he liked the idea of writing a song around it, yet for the life of him, he couldn't believe he forgot the name of the short story. Now that he remembered the title of the story, all he could think about was Felix.

"Felix," He whispered, wondering what he was doing right now.

"Oh right. How was it with Elliot? Did he take rejection well?" Brad asked, leaning forward on the table.

"That's right. You haven't told me what happened the last three days. You completely disappeared until yesterday," Emily added, sipping her hot chocolate.

What could Peter say about Felix? The boy was talented, passionate, had woven an intricate, mystifying tale about an immortal, selfish boy and a loyal servant who would _love him_ unconditionally, "…he's delusional," Peter murmured, choosing to say the easiest words, "He thinks this story he came up with is real. He cut up his own face just because some character in his story also has a scar."

Brad guffawed at his description while Emily remained silent, uncomfortable at Peter's description, "Are you serious?"

Peter nodded, rubbing at his forehead, "He thinks I'm this character in his story. _His lover,_ " He spat the word, "Whatever. I don't care. He can make up whatever fantasy boyfriend he wants. I won't be a part of it."

"Peter, what did he do?" Emily asked, concerned by Peter's bitter tone.

"They had sex."

Emily's jaw dropped; Peter glared at Brad, "That was a secret!"

Brad lifted his hands in supplication, "It's just Emily. She deserves to know."

"Are you alright?" Emily asked, "Did he hurt you?"

" _I'm fine_ ," Peter grumbled, folding his arms and pouting, "I wanted it. According to him, I was _terrible_ when he wasn't walking me through it," He couldn't admit what hurt the most: Confirmation that Felix only wanted him for Pan. He shook his head; it should have meant absolutely nothing to him.

"Peter?" Brad called out, shaking him from his daydream, "Hey man, I'm sorry. I didn't know it meant so much to you."

It didn't matter. _It shouldn't_. Peter lifted his own spirits, sipping at his tea to cover up his frown, "Who cares about him? We've got a song to work on, don't we?"

 

With Emily and Brad, for the better part of the day, he was able to forget all about Felix. When night came and Peter was left alone, that wretched boy once again became the focus in his thoughts.

There was light coming from Felix's window. Peter hesitated in the front yard, staring at the window and wondering if he should go inside. All of his things were still in there so someday he'd have to return, hopefully when Felix was out and his brother could let him in.

Peter entered the home using Felix's key, noting that the kitchen light was still on. The table was empty though; Peter figured Felix probably boxed up the food or threw it out. He walked up the stairs slowly, noting Felix's door was open. _He was probably waiting for me_. Peter swallowed his guilt and entered the room. Everything was just as he left it except for Felix's laptop, open and propped up on a stool with only a single page written.

He approached the storyboard, noting how it was completely untouched. His eyes fell upon the bed where Felix lay, curled up on his side under his sheets, pill bottle sitting on his nightstand. Without Peter around, Felix abandoned his goal and went to sleep, preferring to live his fantasies than to write them down. With Felix unconscious, Peter figured he should just take his things and leave before he awoke. It'd be less hassle for both of them. He collected his things quietly, picking up his clothes, his toiletries, halting when he reached for the sweater Felix gave him.

"Peter…"

Peter gasped, head whipping to Felix and seeing him still asleep. His brows furrowed. He approached Felix quietly, noticing how peaceful he looked. He wondered if he always looked that way in his fantasies, cool, relaxed, and utterly unlike the shuddering, awkward mess he was at school.

Felix mumbled, humming lightly, "Peter Pan never fails."

That phrase was familiar to Peter. He'd read it multiple times throughout Felix's notes. It seemed something like a catchphrase for Felix which Pan appropriated as his slogan. He wondered if it became a madness mantra for him in this world, something to delude himself into think Peter Pan would come and save him.

Peter shut his eyes. He wanted to save Felix; he thought he could. Brad said no one had ever connected to Felix like he had. He was foolish, thinking he could solve years of delusions and loneliness with a single weekend.

"… _who do you love_ …" Felix mumbled, breath hitching, his brows suddenly knitting together. Peter was startled at how tense Felix suddenly became, twitching and groaning into the sheets. He was trembling, his eyes twitching violently, his breathing became harsh. Peter reached out, wanting to do something to comfort him, "No, no, no, no…" Felix mumbled out quickly, his body thrashing suddenly as his eyes snapped open, "No! " He cried out. His eyes were open but he could see nothing. His voice was silent but he was still screaming. He clutched at his chest, shuddering as he breathed before the _sobbing_ came. He hugged his knees, crying hysterically into them, wailing like someone was torturing him.

Peter was frozen silent, watching Felix lose himself in a fit of hysteria. He watched his eyes scan the room, looking for something to hold for comfort and freezing at the sight of Peter standing there watching him. His tears ceased; his mouth snapped shut.

"Nightmare?" Peter asked, voice quiet. Felix nodded back, wiping his eyes and resting his elbows on his knees, "Want me to get a notebook?" Felix shook his head fervently, "Are you… going to be alright?"

There was no such thing as 'alright' for Felix. He looked into Peter's eyes, answering his question for him, "Mm," Felix lied, "I'll be alright," He wiped his eyes, quickly shifting back into a stoic expression.

"So, I finished my song today," Peter said, trying to spark anything in Felix's dead eyes, "Here's a copy if you want," He reached into his pocket, producing a USB which he placed on Felix's nightstand, "Something to listen to when you put your story together."

Felix nodded, silent. He reached for his pill bottle, dumping a couple sleeping pills onto his hands without even looking at the USB.

"You'll like the song," Peter said, lowering himself to look into Felix's eyes, "It's called _My Neverland_ ," Felix's lips fell open, gaping, "I thought about you when we named it," He placed it on Felix's palm with his sleeping pills, closing his fingers over it.

Felix looked touched and in pain. He held the USB over his chest, a nervous habit that Peter didn't quite understand. He swallowed once, ridding himself of the saltiness of his tears before speaking, "What did I do wrong?"

Peter sighed. _This again_ , he stood, backing off, "It's nothing."

"I thought things were going so well. I was so happy. I thought you were happy too," Felix said, frantic when he saw Peter backing away, "Please. I need to know."

Things were going well, too well. Peter let himself be taken away by Felix's stories, started falling for his delusions. He sighed, fearing that he may have lost himself and started believing that he was _Peter Pan_ , "I don't like being played," Peter said firmly, "I'm not Pan and I'll never be Pan. He's just a character in your stories-"

" _Memories_ ," Felix said snappishly.

"Stories!" Peter snapped back, "And I'm not going to let you use me just so you can get closer to him. We had sex because _you thought I was Pan_. I bet that's what you imagined this entire weekend, isn't it? Not me, not my face, but Pan the entire time."

Felix's eyes flickered to the ground, his palms closing tight around the USB and his pills, "You don't believe me," He bit on his lip, shaking once more like he was too weak to sustain his own weight, "I always believed in you."

"I'm not Peter Pan," Peter replied, hating how Felix's worsening mood somehow brought pain to him. He groaned, sweeping a hand through his hair and tearing away, "I'll see you at school tomorrow."

Felix didn't reply. He placed the USB on the table and swallowed his pills dry before laying back on his bed and pulling the sheets to his neck, "Mm," He hummed, shutting his eyes and willing himself back into his memories. The only courtesy Peter could provide was shutting off his lights before heading out.

 

_"You're not going anywhere," Pan snarled, pacing back and forth in his treehouse while Felix remained sitting on the bed, "You're in charge of the Lost Boys."_

_"Rufio can take care of them just fine," Felix said, eyes firm and unyielding, "I want to leave."_

_Pan growled, pacing faster with his eyes glued onto Felix, "Where are you even going to go? Back home where all those soldiers will love the hell outta your arse."_

_Felix stiffened, teeth clenched as he fought the urge to scream, "Don't talk about that."_

_"Why not?" Pan said, towering over Felix, "Don't ever forget what I saved you from. You owe me this."_

_There it was again, that awful statement that rooted Felix to this island. Pan saved him and he was forever grateful but Pan had no right to hold it against him. Felix shut his eyes, groaning into his hands. He wanted things to go back to the way they were, just the two of them, happy and free._

Felix opened his eyes, swallowing once and covering his head with his pillow. He didn't want to wake up, didn't want to face Peter and realize how much he screwed up. _I do care. I do like you very much and not just because of Pan_ , Felix gripped into his hair, unable to shake away Pan's grip and live a normal life with Peter and his friends.

Images of Pan, the intimate touch of his hands, his voice soft and sultry, drowning Felix in sensations. He sat up in bed, the sunrise breaking through his curtains. He had to forget Pan if he ever wanted to have a life with Peter. He climbed out of bed, taking the USB key Pan left behind and plugging it into his laptop, downloading it into his phone.

Laying back in bed, headphones on and phone in his hand, Felix shut his eyes and drowned himself in Peter's voice.

_Pan wasn't real_. Felix repeated it in his head over and over but it would never stick. He crawled over to his desk, puling out the bottom drawer where he kept the memories he wanted to hide. He reached to the bottom, taking out sketches he had made of everyone he remembered. He swallowed, flipping through them and finding it harder and harder not to believe in Neverland.

"I'll always believe in you," Felix whispered to himself, ignoring his alarm suddenly going off behind him. _But I wish I didn't._

 

Felix waited at the front of the school again with a paper bag of muffins. Peter never came. When the school bell rang, Felix figured Peter took another way in, avoiding him. He shut his eyes and threw the breakfast away, not bothering to go to class. He wandered into the band room, sitting in the back with his hood up waiting for lunch to come.

He stared at the door, begging for Peter to arrive, his own stomach growling as he delayed lunch for Peter's arrival. He gasped when he saw Emily step in with her guitar, the one she shared with Peter. _Peter would be here._ Felix stood, wanting to speak out but snapping his mouth shut when Emily yelped.

"You scared me," She said, no longer heading towards the stage and simply standing by the door with her guitar, "Are you looking for Peter?"

Felix nodded quickly, "Wanted to apologize," He mumbled, ducking his head, _terrified_ of a girl half his size.

"You don't have to be scared of me," She said, stepping closer, "I won't hurt you."

Unable to conjure up any courage he had from his past life, Felix shook his head and backed away.

The moment Peter walked in, Felix's eyes flickered from Emily to the door, lighting up, "Peter!" He called out, briefly forgetting what had transpired between the two. Peter's eyes met his, startled, but Felix had no time to explain himself before Brad stormed in and stomped towards him.

"Get out of here!" Brad exclaimed, meeting Felix's eyes and forcing him to look away, "Emily, are you alright?"

"Stop it! "Emily shouted back, "Look at him. He's terrified."

"You heard what he did to Peter," Brad said, gesturing to the cowering boy in the corner, "What if he hurts you for being Peter's friend?"

Emily shook her head, "You don't know that."

Cutting through their argument, Felix shouted, "I'm sorry!" The room was silent, everyone's attention on Felix while the boy tried his best not to cower at the unwanted attention. He met Peter's eyes and found the strength to continue, "I screwed up, Peter. I didn't mean to hurt you like that. You're my _only_ friend, my first friend, and I care about you."

Peter huffed, looking away as he dropped his bag to the ground.

"I'm so sorry," Felix repeated, "Please don't go."

His words were sincere, his voice cracking, but Peter knew what really lay in Felix's heart. He begged for Peter to stay but his eyes could only see _Pan_ , "Elliot," Peter murmured, that false name poisonous on his tongue, "I think you should go."

"No, no, no," Felix mumbled, stepping past Brad and Emily, "Please don't. Please. Please. I'll do anything!"

"I don't believe in Neverland," Peter said firmly, "Say it."

In this life and the previous one, this was the first time Felix rejected a command from Peter. He breathed slowly, calming himself before hanging his head and shaking it.

"That's what I thought," Peter replied, stepping out of his way, "You can go."

"Peter, please-"

"Just. Go," Peter said, voice firmer and lower, frightening in his tone.

Felix scurried away, shaking, feeling so small in a world that kept growing and threatened to crush him. He scrambled up the clock tower, nearly sprinting to the top as he pushed past the dilapidated furniture and grabbed onto the handrails, crouching as he pressed his forehead against the bar, wishing things were different. If only Pan would whisk him away to Neverland or his dreams would finally leave him be, sitting between both worlds was a miserable existence.

He turned slowly, sitting against the handrail as he put his headphones on and stuffed his hands into his sweater, listening to Peter's song. It was his very last gift to Felix and he swore he'd protect this song with his life.

_I wake up._

Felix mouthed the words.

_The sunlight shining through the trees after a dream_

Felix shut his eyes and held his knees to his chest, "Why can't it all be true?" He whispered with the melody.

_Again, I fall._

 

_"Like this. Line your arms up," Peter commanded, pushing Felix's elbow up as he pulled back the bowstring, "Straight lines, Felix. Come on."_

_Felix growled, "Never liked archery," He was more of a close quarters combat type of fighter, "Can't you just like Tootles handle the cover fire?"_

_Peter shrugged, "Archers are sexy."_

_A bell in his head, motivation in his heart, Felix straightened himself up and held the bow taut._

_"Much better," Peter snickered, holding the end of the arrow between Felix's fingers, "You're sexier already."_

_Felix smiled and laughed._

"I love you, Peter," Felix murmured in his arms, the air too cold and uncomfortable to be his room. He opened his eyes, flinching when he noticed the entire class and the teacher watching him.

" _Peter_?"

"As in _that_ Peter?"

Felix swallowed but the dryness in his throat would not sate. He whined in his throat, casting his eyes down and trembling. He could hear them snickering in the back, the teacher fed up with Felix's inability to grow. He shoved his books into his bag and rushed out, stumbling over the edge of a trash can on his way.

Felix rubbed his eyes, trying to fight the tiredness in him. His body was beckoning him to sleep forever, enter his fantasies and never come out. Felix kept trying, trying to belong in this world, trying to be happy. He wandered the halls, peering into the rooms searching for Peter, his only source of happiness in this boring, unchanging world.

He'd gone through two floors until he found him in the drama room, sitting on the carpet across from Emily chatting with her. Felix _hated_ how happy Peter was, how casually Emily talked to him, how his life went on without Felix while Felix's life twisted and crashed and burned and shattered.

"What are you doing here?" Brad snapped, grabbing Felix's shoulder and turning him around.

Flinching violently, eyes wide with fear, Felix stared into Brad's eyes and felt himself crumple inside. He opened his mouth to speak but found nothing to say, lip unintentionally quivering with unspoken words.

Brad sighed, arm dropping to his side, "Geez, even I feel bad now," He watched Felix slacken once his hand left him, stuffing his hands into his pockets and hiding his eyes under his hood. The boy was tall; Brad noted he'd be perfect for the basketball team, but his hunched body and unflattering clothes made him small, "Do you want me to get Peter?"

Peering through the window, Felix wanted to tear Peter away from Emily, tear him away from happiness so he could only see Felix and no one else. He could never find the heart to hurt Peter, even if it meant his life would be far worse. He shook his head, content with simply watching Peter from afar.

"So what, you're going to just stalk him around from now on?" Brad said, purely in jest.

Just like his memories, Peter and Pan would never be attainable for him. All he could do was watch from afar and wish things could be better. He nodded back, eyes misting up. He shut them tightly, face tense as he swallowed his sobs. Not here, not in front of someone, but his chest was hurting so badly, worse than when Rufio died, worse than when Peter abandoned him for Wendy. _Punishment_ , this had to be a punishment because pain like this was too cruel to come without reason.

"Peter! He's here to see you."

Felix wanted to run but Peter's footsteps rooted him to the ground. He stared unblinkingly at Peter as he stepped out of the classroom, staring into Felix's eyes, breaking him down slowly, "I'm sorry," Felix choked out, sniffling, "I didn't mean to-" His voice choked and he looked away, "I-I'm sorry."

Peter didn't believe in Pan so he saw Felix's actions as nothing more than madness, attempting to romance a fictional character through a real person. Peter didn't believe in Pan so Felix _broke his heart_. The contradiction drove Felix mad but when he saw Peter return to class with Brad in tow, he spoke up.

"I don't-" He stopped, shutting his eyes.

Peter turned to him, caught off guard, "What was that?"

Voice quiet, eyes still shut, Felix forced himself to mumble out, "I don't believe in…Neverland."

_Sacrilegious_ , if Pan were here, he'd burn him at the stake. _But Pan wasn't here_ , Pan wasn't going to save him, but Peter could. Felix kneaded at the ends of his sweater, hands occasionally coming up to scratch at his scalp, sweeping his hair back nervously.

"I don't believe in Neverland," He said, voice steadier but still quiet, "I believe in _us_ ," He reached forward, hands quivering and clammy as he held Peter's hand, "I want to be with you. I want to fix things." _Please be with me. Please take me back. Please don't abandon me. Please. Please. Please._

For once in his tiresome, grueling life, Peter pulled him close and held him tight, his prayers answered. Tears and trembling ceasing, Felix wrapped his arms around Peter and returned the embrace. For that sweet, brief moment, Felix really thought he could be free of his misery.

Felix found the two of them alone in bathroom, Peter standing behind by the stall while Felix wiped his face with paper towels, mopping at his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater.

"Are you better now?" Peter asked, touching Felix's shoulder as a comforting gesture.

The touch frightened Felix but he didn't break away. He turned to look at Peter, fearing the contempt he imagined in his eyes, "I'm sorry," He repeated, unable to stop himself. He whined when Peter held his face, cupping his cheeks soothingly and brushing away the dampness, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Elliot," Peter sighed. Felix bit down on his tongue, stopping him from correcting his name, "I need to know," He drummed his fingers lightly on Felix's skin sending shivers down his spine, "Do you just want me because you think I'm Peter Pan?"

_Cruel_ , but Felix had no choice but to accept his words, "I want you for you," He murmured. He reached for Peter's hands, holding them against his cheeks and relishing their warmth, "It's awful, Peter. Every day, I can't think. I can't concentrate on anything but _Peter Pan._ When I'm with you, everything's clear."

Peter's hands slid down slowly on his face, caressing his neck and noticing how cold Felix's skin was, almost like a corpse. Peter narrowed his eyes, gliding down to Felix's sweater and resting at his side, holding him close, "I really did love hanging out with you," Felix's heart lifted, his mind clear once more, "We'll work on this together, alright?"

Overjoyed, Felix threw himself into Peter's arms, embracing the boy and nearly lifting him off his feet. Peter laughed at the gesture, returning his embrace and reassuring him, "Peter Pan can't have you. He'll have to go through me."

_"You belong to me, Felix."_

Felix swallowed, a tremble in his voice that he masked by shouting, "I'd like that," He gave him a firm pat on the shoulder, "Come on. I've got to get back to class," Slipping out from Felix's embrace, Peter led the boy out of the bathroom and back to class, charming Felix's teacher into letting the troubled boy back in after his spontaneous escape.


	5. This manic tragedy keeps playing

_"Stop, it's not right," Felix groaned, clawing into the dirt, the smell of smoke covering him and drowning his senses, "Peter, stop!" He crooned, spine arching, eyes rolling, before shuddering and falling back into the ground, breathing in the dry leaves and dust._

_"You are a wretched boy," Peter growled, grinding him into the dirt beside Rufio's funeral pyre, "A wretched, selfish, vile boy."_

_His words were lies and Felix refused to believe them like everything else that came from Pan's mouth. Peter wronged him first. Felix had every right to have his revenge. But somehow, amidst the shots fired between them, Rufio ended up paying the price. Felix choked up, clawing at the dirt trying to drag himself away._

_"I'll never let you go," Peter growled, turning Felix over and paralyzing him with a look, "If I can't have what I want, I'll take you instead."_

You already have me.

_Words that Felix never said rang too true in his mind. He found himself unable to fight, unable to resist, as Peter claimed what already belong to him._

Felix forced himself awake, eyes blinking till Neverland faded into the darkness of his room. For once, the sun hadn't risen yet. He sat up, hand sweeping through his hair as Peter's phantom touch refused to fade. In his mind, Peter was still holding him down, forcing him to fuck beside Rufio's ashes.

Every time Felix shut his eyes, Pan would be back, the heat of the pyre would be back, this awful memory warning him for his disobedience. In desperation, he grabbed his phone from the charger, plugging in his headphones and drowning himself out with Peter's song.

"As I close my eyes, there is nothing left behind, no noise spilling out," Peter sang, Emily and Brad joining him on their instruments, "I know that this is what I want; this is what I need: The memory _of you_ that is repeating even now."

Felix sat in front of the stage, listening on with a tiny smile on his face. Despite listening to the same song for hours on his phone, hearing Peter singing live made it feel like a fresh new song. He loved when Peter made eye contact with him, occasionally winking or pointing in his direction as if he was serenading him personally. Felix blushed at the gesture, shifting around shyly in his seat.

"I love it when you sing," Felix commented while the four of them ate lunch on the stage. Felix was sitting beside Peter again, pressed up right by his side while he snacked on his sandwich.

"Thanks," Peter replied.

"What are we? Chopped liver?" Brad joked, nudging at Felix and startled when the boy stiffened like he'd just stabbed him, "Um, anyway, we should come up with a new song."

Emily lit up at his words, reaching for her notebook and flipping to a fresh page, "I've been working on a new song. It's based off this short story about a girl who is rejected by the world and the song is a narration of her thoughts and lifestyle."

"How about something that doesn't bum me out?" Brad replied, snickering when Emily seethed at him, "Like, in Classics, we're just starting on the Iliad. Wouldn't it be cool to write a song about the Trojan War?"

"That'll take a lot of research," Emily noted, "Research which I'll probably end up doing."

"I don't see any problem with what you just said," Brad said with a cheeky smile, letting Emily slap him playfully on the shoulder.

"I know a bit about Troy," Felix said, looking up from his hood, "I can help," Peter perked up at his words, already wary of Felix's "sources". Both of them knew about Curly, the Trojan Prince Koryphaios who escaped the burning city and was saved by Peter Pan, "I-I read about it," Felix added, meeting Peter's eyes, "You know, for research in my story."

"Peter talks about your story a lot," Emily noted, putting her notebook away, "Why don't you tell us about it?"

Brad nodded, folding his arms, "Yeah. I'm curious!"

Felix's eyes darted to Peter, offended that he told his friends Felix's darkest, most precious secrets. He wanted to hate Peter for it but found himself restrained by his promise. If he wanted to be with Peter, Neverland had to mean nothing to him. He took a slow breath, calming himself before he spoke, "It's about a magical boy named Peter Pan and he lives on island with his friends, the Lost Boys."

"Peter Pan's a tyrant," Peter said suddenly, "He kidnaps boys to his island to amuse him and when he was nearing his death, he was willing to steal his own great-grandson's heart to live on."

"Oh my," Emily whispered, immediately noticing the animosity between Peter and Felix.

Brad hummed in acknowledgement, "That could make an interesting song. People love the whole villain protagonist thing nowadays."

Felix pulled his hood on, tucking his hands into his front pocket, "I guess he does do bad things occasionally."

"That's not even half of it," Peter said, "He sent a boy to his death just so he could spite his best friend."

"You don't know that!" Felix snapped, "I-I mean, that's not what I meant. It was meant to be an accident. That's how I meant to write it."

"Peter, they're Elliot's stories. Let him talk about them," Emily scolded Peter, accidentally use two words that damned Felix's existence.

_My name is Felix._

_They're not stories; they're memories._

Reaching up, Felix scraped a hand through his hair, breath quick, "Hey, you alright?" Peter asked, reaching out and shaking Felix's shoulder.

"I'm fine. I'm fine," Felix muttered, sliding away from Peter, "You're right. Peter's right. Pan was a tyrant. He sent Rufio to his death. They're just stories. Just stupid little stories. They wouldn't be any good for your songs," He lowered his hood completely, threading both hands into his hair and gripping tight, whining quietly like a beaten dog.

Emily sighed, glaring at Peter as she spoke, "Why did you have to do that? You know it's a sensitive topic."

"You asked about it," Peter replied with a pout.

Felix knew deep down, Peter was still stinging about the rejection, the realization that Peter lost his virginity to someone who imagined another person in his place. He didn't want to hurt Peter like that, wanted to heal his pain. He looked up, finding calmness when he thought about Peter's lips, Peter's touch.

"No, Peter's right," He said calmly, looking to all three of them with the most sincere tranquility he could muster, "I was troubled, lonely, so I made up a bunch of exciting stories to fill that void. I told myself they were memories of my past life but deep down, I knew they were just fantasies," His words were _lies_ but he spoke them with such confidence, he was starting to delude himself, "But I can still talk about them. They're still important to me even if they're fake."

At his confidence and acceptance, Peter rushed over on the stage and crushed their lips together, shoving both of them down onto the stage as he took Felix's head and kissed him passionately. Felix hummed with enjoyment, tangling his tongue with Peter's and boldly slipping his hands under his shirt.

"Jesus hot sauce Christmas Cake," Brad murmured, "Get a room."

Peter rolled his eyes, picking himself up from Felix and simply staring into his eyes, "I know the perfect place."

Just the two of them, perched up high on the clock tower's balcony, heart racing uncontrollably, groping at each other, mouths pressed together and tongues tangled in a manic dance, if Felix could have this feeling forever, he'd never need Neverland ever again. He broke away from Peter, staring at him as his eyes misted, his breath stuttered.

Peter smirked, kissing his lips lightly, "What's the matter?"

Felix wiped at his eyes, laughing away the pressure in his chest, "I never thought this would happen."

Happiness belonged in Neverland. That was what Felix believed. This world was punishment, purgatory, and he was destined to suffer over and over again until he finally paid his penance. With Peter in his arms, the heaviness of Neverland sitting in the back of his mind, Felix had finally found paradise.

"Elliot, do you believe in soulmates?" Peter whispered.

If this had been Pan, Felix would've burst into laughter at his uncharacteristic words. Something as banal and boring as "soulmates" or "true love" was ridiculous to Peter Pan and by extension, Felix. He smiled, stroking Peter's face gently from where he lay on the cement floor, "Why do you ask?"

Peter breathed him in, resting his face on his shoulder, "We've barely known each other for a couple days, a week, but I feel like we've known each other for centuries."

_Maybe we have._ Felix held the words in. Neverland was a dream; Peter Pan was a delusion. If he ever wanted to be with Peter, he had to believe this so he kept quiet and joined their lips together once more. The lunch bell rang behind them but Peter and Felix paid it no mind.

 

Felix snickered into his phone, tapping a quick 'i miss u too' to Peter. Felix noted today down on the calendar in his phone as his two week anniversary with Peter. Two weeks since they reunited. Two weeks free of _memories._ His nights were so frightfully peaceful, Felix wondered if it were all trick.

He wished Peter could stay over again, cleaning up the mess they had made in the guest room the night before. Sighing happily, Felix nearly skipped out of the guest room and into his bedroom, stiffening briefly when he saw the storyboard staring back at him. He approached carefully as if something would swallow him up and take him away.

_Neverland_ , the past he yearned for… no, not the past. _Delusions_ that kept him from his life. Felix pressed a hand to the corkboard, wondering if he should toss it all away or keep it for nostalgia's sake. Now that he acknowledged it as delusion, Felix could _rewrite it_ , change events so they suit him instead of documenting every single fact no matter how much it hurt.

His phone pinged again. Felix bit on his lip in excitement, sliding the phone out from his sweater pocket and blushing at the half-naked photo Peter sent him. He brought his phone with him into the bathroom, ready to wash his face and hop in bed with Peter on phone to lull him to sleep. Felix opened the mirrored cabinet, taking out a fresh bottle of face wash before shutting the door and _screaming in fear_.

"Been a long time, Felix"

Impossible. Impossible. _Impossible_. Felix couldn't move, eyes locked onto _Peter Pan_ standing behind him in the bathroom.

"This is Neverland," Pan said, his voice perfectly accented, his brow quirking at the right angle, "Where the impossible is possible if you believe," His smile faded, expression suddenly dangerous, "Which, _you do_ no matter how hard you pretend."

"You're not real," Felix murmured, turning around to see Pan still against the wall, "You're not real. Pan's not real. You're in my head."

Pan stepped forward, brushing a hand down Felix's chest, "You look good. A bit skinnier but still good."

His touch felt ungodly like tendrils clawing through his skin _or a Shadow reaching into his soul_. Felix shuddered and shut his eyes, willing him to disappear, "You're not real. You're not real. You're not real."

"I'm not going anywhere," Pan said, walking Felix to his bed and shoving him onto it, "Not until you believe again."

"I don't believe in you!" Felix shouted, eyes still screwed shut as he shouted with all his strength, "I don't believe in Neverland!" He condemned the ghost in his head. He had to or he'd never be happy again. That taste of paradise would be nothing more than a taste.

He opened his eyes slowly, scanning his surroundings. Pan was gone. He was alone again. He reached for his phone, once eager to dial Peter's number and waste the night away chatting with him but now terrified of Pan eavesdropping on their conversation.

_No. Pan's not real._ Felix clutched the phone to his chest, laying on his side and repeating his mantra. Delusions, they were all delusions. Magic doesn't exist. Boys can't fly. Fairies are myths . Pan isn't real. _Pan's not real._

"But I am and you know that," A voice said into his ear, pressed up against his back and whispering poison.

 

Waking up with a gasp and sweaty sheets, this was the first time Felix knew he had dreamt but couldn't remember it. All he knew was that he was _terrified_ and he didn't want to be alone. _He needed Peter now._ He mashed his number into his phone, sitting on the edge of his bed and anxiously staring at his phone, waiting for him to pick up and save him from his loneliness.

"Hello?" Peter called out, his voice without an English accent.

Felix smiled, opened his mouth to speak, and his phone was promptly knocked out of his hand.

"Where's my good morning?" Pan asked, bending down to stare into Felix's eyes, "You're going to greet this imposter before you greet me?"

The trembling started again. Felix sat back with his hands buried in the sheets, forcing him to stay sitting, "Get out of my head!" He shouted, "You're not real!"

"I'm very real," Pan replied, taking Felix's chin tightly, "If I wasn't real, could I do this?" With a single motion, Pan hurled Felix onto the ground, smirking when the boy's head thumped against the dresser.

Felix groaned, clutching his head. The pain was real; the dizziness was real. _Pan wasn't real_. The contradiction drove him made and Felix could do nothing more than _run_ when Pan walked towards him. He dove into the bathroom, locking the door and banging against it when the door knob jiggled, "You're not real! Go away!"

The jiggling stopped. The voices stopped. Felix stared into the mirror and could only see himself staring back at him.

 

His eyes flickered over his shoulder at the slightest noise, the slightest murmur from any boy who sounded even just a little like Pan. His ratty green tunic was no where in sight; those eyes that could freeze him with a look were not upon him. He reached his locker, fingers rattling as he tried to twist in his combination. He couldn't concentrate, consistently punching in the wrong number and swearing under his breath with each try, his trembling getting worse and worse.

"Are you alright?" His neighbour asked, frightened by how violently Felix was trembling.

"Mind your own business!" Felix barked, eyes wild and teeth bared.

The hall fell silent. His neighbour slinked away shyly and shortly after, the chatting returned. Felix's abnormalities were nothing new to any of them. Felix shut his eyes, breathing evenly to calm himself and slow his trembling.

"Way to make a spectacle of yourself," Pan said, reclined casual against the locker beside Felix.

Felix leapt away from his locker, staring into Pan and shaking his head, "W-Why are you here?"

Pan lifted himself with a smile, circling Felix playfully, "I've always been here, watching you, making sure you still believe in me."

Wary of Pan's supposed existence, Felix's eyes flickered from side-to-side, watching how none of the students reacted to the boy dressed in a ratty medieval tunic with a dagger in his hands, "They can't see you."

"Because they don't believe," Pan replied, "But you believe."

"I don't believe in you!" Felix shouted, begging him to disappear like he had last night.

Pan chuckled at him, watching the students gravitate away from him as they walked past, "You look insane, did you know that?"

Felix had to get away. Peter would protect him from his mind, give him the clarity he so desperately wanted. He tore away and immediately got shoved into the lockers by Pan. He collided with such impact, the protruding lock he collided into nearly pierced his skin. Felix hissed in pain, groaning when a hand came around his throat and pushed him into the lockers once more.

"You're _not_ going to him," Pan hissed into his mouth, " Do you think he'd love you if you told him that you were seeing me in your mind? He'd think you're crazy, well, more crazy," Felix tried to shove him off but found his wrists pinned to either side of his head, "He'd send you off to the crazy house if he knew because he thinks its all going on in your pretty, little head," He licked the side of Felix's face, "But I know you're telling the truth. _I believe in you._ "

The morning bell rang, Felix shuddered, shut his eyes for just a second, and Pan was gone when he reopened them. He dropped his wrists from the locker, fixing his sweater awkwardly before rushing to his first class.

 

"Elliot's not here yet," Peter said, anxiously watching the band room door.

"I heard he was freaking out this morning," Brad replied, sipping on his coke, "He was screaming into nothing."

"We should go look for him," Emily said, "Something's wrong."

Peter placed his burger onto a nearby desk, picking up his backpack, "I'll go," He tapped another quick text to Felix, noting how the boy hadn't answered a single one since last night. He hadn't even called him despite promising to do so every night. Worst of all was the phone call in the morning.

Before Peter could take a step out, Felix rushed into the band room breathless and sweaty.

"Wha-Elliot!" Peter shouted, rushing over to him, "What happened?"

"Gym class," Felix mumbled, yanking his sweater over his lap, feeling overexposed after Pan shoved him into a broom closet and jerked him off, "H-How are you?"

Nervously looking to Brad and Emily, Peter walked Felix out into the hall, too concerned, "Are you alright?"

Swallowing once and checking the surrounding for Pan, Felix truthfully answered, "No," The trembling came back. Felix ducked his head into Peter's shoulder, "It's getting worse."

"I know," Peter replied, wrapping his arms around him, "On the phone, you were… talking to yourself. I don't know what happened but there was this crash and I was so scared."

"I wasn't talking to myself," Felix replied, " _It was Pan_. He's there, in my head, and he's talking to me," He held Peter tighter, "What do I do? It's never been like this before."

"You need to talk to your therapist," Peter said, voice firm like a command, "He can help you deal with this!"

Felix shook his head, adamantly opposing him, "So he can send me off to the crazy house?" Felix's lips curled into a snarl, "I'm not going."

Disappointed but not turned away, Peter took Felix's hands and held them close, "Okay," He said, stroking the side of his face, "Then stay close. I want to keep an eye on you," His touch was soft and the longer Felix lingered in it, the clearer his mind was. He shut his eyes, leaning into Peter's lips and letting peace wash over him. He could get through this. He had to believe it.

But with Pan watching him over Peter's shoulder, his eyes locked with Felix's when he opened them, Felix knew his ill-founded hopes were pointless.

When the night came, Felix was in front of his laptop, hands on the keyboard in front of a half empty document while Pan paced in front of him, "Start writing," He commanded.

Felix's fingers twitched, his mind on auto-pilot, unfailingly following a command from Pan even though everything else in his head was screaming for him to stop, "I don't need to do this anymore. This isn't real," Felix murmured, still typing despite his denial, "You're not real."

"Don't make me punish you," Pan growled, grabbing his head and slamming it forward into the keyboard. Felix yelped, holding the tender skin, "You know what I do with traitors on the island."

"You're not real!" Felix screamed, trying to scare Pan off again just as he did the night before. The illusion remained, _was it really an illusion?_ "No, no, no, no, no, this can't be," He mumbled to himself, sweeping his hands through his hair over and over.

Peter laughed at the reaction, "Careful. You'll make yourself bald doing that," He reached for Felix's hood, yanking it back over his head, "There. No more of that. Now get back to writing."

His fingers moved on their own, his mind sobbing at the contradiction.

 

Pan was more frequent now, lounging around in each classroom talking over the teacher while Felix covered his ears and hummed to himself to drown Pan out. Pan would be in the band room, humming along to Peter's songs, gesturing like he was going to stab him with his knife. Felix was on high alert all the time, fidgeting with his clothes uncontrollably, flinching sporadically whenever Pan would appear. He looked insane but what else could he do with a demon following him?

All Pan demanded of him was to finish his story. Felix's immediate instinct was to _destroy all his notes_. He boxed them up, blasting Peter's newest song on his laptop to drown out Pan's voice. He hauled each box out to the curb, figuring that all of it would go straight into recycling. The corkboard would have to wait till the next week so he stashed it in the pantry.

Only his other art pieces were left, drawings, paintings, crafts, all of which he could probably pass on to the art show. He lay back in his bed, sweeping a hand over his hair as he willed himself to sleep.

Felix's phone rang. With his eyes still shut, groggy from sleep, he grabbed his phone from the nightstand, smiling at Peter's name flashing on the screen, and answered it, "Hello?"

"Do you think you can get rid of me that easily?"

That voice, _that accent_ , Felix's eyes snapped open and he found himself surrounded by Lost Boys, "Peter?" He whimpered, wrapping himself up in his blanket and realizing that it was a cloak instead, "Oh my god," He leapt to his feet, realizing where he was, "Peter?" He called out again.

The boys shoved him back down, ripping off his cloak. Before Felix could even inquire, all the boys were on him at once, beating him with their weapons, kicking him around in a circle. Felix covered his head, crying out in pain with every terrible strike.

The pain stopped, suddenly, all the boys disappeared.

Pan lowered himself on the ground, turning Felix's face so he could stare into his eyes, "Learned your lesson?"

Felix mouthed an answer that was lost to his dreams. He opened his eyes, finding himself at the bottom of the staircase, whole body aching and broken from the fall. He forced himself to his feet, quickly feeling for any dislocated bones. Fortunately, for once in his life, Felix got off easy with just a bit of bad bruising. He limped his way back to his room, ready to crawl back in bed and skip the school day till he entered his room and his heart stopped.

Notes were scattered all over his room in organized piles. The corkboard was perched back on the center of his wall. His laptop was turned on and open, staring back at him with an unfinished document. Felix whined, shuddering before collapsing onto the ground in defeat and exhaustion.

"Elliot, Elliot…" Peter whispered on the phone, "Hey. I'll be right there. Just hang on, stay on the phone, I'll get over there as soon as I can."

Felix's back shuddered, hysterical with sobs and terror that refused to subside, "D-Don't. Don't come over. I just-just need someone to talk to. _Please_. Don't come over to my house," At Felix's insistence, Peter promised not to come over and tried his best to calm him down on the phone.

Pan was brandishing his knife before him, pointing at Felix's phone and mockingly slitting his throat.

 

"You know you can't keep me out forever," Pan whispered into his ear, "Deep in your heart, you know this world is all fake. Neverland is real. _I'm real,_ " Felix shook his head adamantly, "Oh no? Then how can I do this?" Pan suddenly covered him from head to toe, both of them somehow ending up on the bed. He slammed Felix's head once into the backboard, his laughter sounding like echoes as Felix's head rumbled from the impact. A hand was reaching into his pants, Felix wasn't sure whose.

Felix groaned, toes curling as Pan touched every single spot he loved, something Peter never got right even after their practice in the band room after school. Only Pan knew all his favourite spots, knew exactly how to exploit them to make him hard as a rock. Who else could it possibly be?

"That's it," Pan cooed, "Peter Pan will take care of you."

In another time, Felix would've been overjoyed for Pan to hold him like this. Deep down, Pan wasn't wrong. Felix still wanted him, still wanted Neverland to be true, but Peter showed him another life, a happier, normal life that Felix yearned just as much as Neverland.

"It won't work out," Pan said to him, stroking Felix's come into his hair, "You can run off with that imposter but I'll always be there, watching you and he'll _never_ believe you. He'll think you've lost your mind and somewhere down the road, he'll send you to rehab and _leave you there_."

Worst of all, Felix knew Pan was right.

The next afternoon, Felix sobbed into Peter's chest while they hid in the empty band room, begging him not to tell the therapist, "Promise me you'll be there for me," Felix murmured, too tired to keep himself upright.

"I will," Peter replied, hugging Felix close, "I promise."

"He'll break his promise, you know."

 

First it was just him, Felix could hear Pan talk to him, could interact with him, but no one else was affected, then came the mischief, the lockers slathered with green paint, Brad and Emily receiving rude texts by Felix's number. Animosity against him was growing. His behavioural blow-ups were getting more and more frequent.

_Peter_ stopped sitting near him, stopping inviting him to the clock tower, and sooner or later, Felix knew Peter would stop texting altogether. Driven mad by Pan and his games, Felix found peace in only one place: _His memories_ , static and pre-defined, Felix spent hours typing up his story, placating the demon that demanded its completion.

Felix's phone pinged, distracting him from his task. He tore away from the laptop, reaching for his phone when he saw Peter's name on the screen. A hand slapped over his, "Don't answer that."

"It's Peter," Felix murmured, "I have to."

"No, you don't," Pan said, grabbing his wrist and glaring at him, "Don't talk to that imposter," He grabbed his phone, throwing it halfway across the room and shoving Felix down when he tried to get it, " _No_."

Felix shut his eyes, scraping his fingers so deeply through his hair, he swore he'd draw blood if he continued, "Why are you doing this to me?"

"I'm trying to save you," Pan said, "The moment you give into this world, you'll never be able to get back to Neverland. We'll never be together," He took Felix's chin, tilting his head up to stare into his eyes, "You want me, don't you?"

Felix gasped, his chest aching suddenly, "Always."

"Then keep writing," Peter commanded, letting Felix go and stepping back, forcing him to stay awake and write throughout the night.

 

"Felix?" Peter asked, walking into the band room with Brad and Emily, "What are you doing here? Thought we were going to meet at your locker."

Felix looked to Pan, narrowed his eyes, and looked back to the ground. He had no idea when he got here, his mind swimming with tiresome thoughts, robbed of sleep by the phantom in his mind, "I-uh, was waiting for you."

"We got a new song!" Brad announced, climbing onto the stage and plopping himself beside his drums, "Come on, let's try it out before we eat."

Felix seated himself patiently, watching Peter and his friends retrieve their instruments.

"Ah!" Emily screamed, staring into her guitar case.

Peter and Brad stormed over yet Felix remained seated. Peter gasped, seeing the case of mangled splinters and guitar strings, "What the hell?" He looked into the storage locker, noting how Emily always placed it far in the back under several other cases for protection. He opened other cases, noting how they were all perfectly intact. It wasn't a random attack; it was too precise to be a random attack. Unfortunately, Brad figured it out first.

"You did this!" Brad exclaimed, grabbing Felix's collar and dragging him off his seat, "What the hell were you thinking?"

Felix babbled in fear, fingers jittery over Brad's wrist, "I-I…oh god, I didn't…I-Peter!" He cried out in fear, shutting his eyes and trying to squirm away.

"Let him go!" Peter shouted, shoving Brad away and taking Felix's hand, pulling him outside to talk in peace.

"It wasn't me!" Felix blurted out when they were alone, "I swear, Peter. It wasn't me."

Peter didn't believe him. Felix could tell before he even spoke, "I'm scheduling an appointment with your therapist."

"No!" Felix cried, grabbing onto Peter's shirt and burying his face into his collar, "There's nothing wrong with me, I swear. I didn't do this!"

"Then who?" Peter asked, exasperated.

Felix looked up, eyes wild and empty, "It was Pan! He won't leave me alone," He whimpered, eyes darting around in the hall, "He's following me and doing things to me because he wants to take me back to Neverland. But no one else can see him because they don't believe!"

His tone was too sincere; his words too mad to be jest. Peter shook his head slowly, tired. He couldn't handle this anymore, "You need help."

"Pan, please don't do this," Felix begged, gripping tighter into Peter's shirt, "I always believed in you. Why can't you just believe me?"

Peter took Felix's wrists and pulled him off, face stoic but shattered, "Because I'm not Pan."


	6. We who have a wounded past

Peter disappeared from his life.

Pan disappeared too.

For hours, Felix sat in his room staring at his phone hoping Peter would call, hoping Pan would return. He couldn't sleep and he was out of sleeping pills. Felix did the only thing he could: He turned on his laptop and started documenting his memories in a novel. His eyes flickered to the storyboard, to the notes piled high all over his room, sparking old memories he thought he'd given up.

His brother would be back in a week. Peter no longer cared for him. Pan no longer haunted him. His memories still meant everything. Life would be just as it once was. This blip would fade in time.

At home, at school, in the public library across the street, Felix tapped away at his laptop, carefully writing out all of his memories in a steady pace.

_"Why did you bring me up here?" Peter asked, watching Felix carefully scale the steepest wall of Dead Man's Peak. He reached a hand out, pulling Felix to the topmost platform._

_Felix brushed himself up, nodding towards the sky, "Wanted to show you that."_

_Peter squinted, seeing nothing but a starry sky, "Show me what?"_

_"The stars," Felix replied, sitting down with his knees to his chest._

_Peter snickered. He'd seen the stars plenty of times before, "What of it?" He replied, sitting down beside Felix, "What's so special about the stars today?"_

_Felix shrugged, unsure of what Pan meant, "I like them. They're relaxing to watch."_

_"I agree."_

_Felix flickered to Peter, startled when he noticed how the boy stared at him and not the stars. He scraped a hand through his hair nervously, blushing to his ears and hoping the night's darkness would hide it. He hummed when the back of Peter's wrist touched his hair, taking his hood and pulling it off._

_"Don't hide," He commanded, touching the back of his ears and smirking at the warmth._

Felix lifted his fingers from the keyboard, the same warmth at the tips of his ears. He smiled softly, grasping onto that precious memory and re-reading the snippet he had written to relive it over and over again. He didn't need Peter. This world in his notes and memories would suffice. _I don't need Peter. I don't need Peter. I don’t-_

Breaking him from his mantra, Felix's phone began to ring.

Startled, the warmth leaving him for a different kind of heat, Felix rushed to his nightstand and grabbed his phone from the charger, a smile ghosting on his lips as he answered the phone, "Peter!" He greeted, almost laughing before everything came crumbling down, "… Rufus."

 _Right_. His brother was coming home in two weeks.

Closing his eyes, Felix hung up and dropped the phone on his bed.

 

Legs dangling over the edge of the clock tower, Felix ate his sandwich in piece as he watched Peter through the band room window. He could make out the blue in his shirt, Emily's blonde hair at the stage, and if he shut his eyes and concentrated, he could hear the faintest amount of music. This was as close as he was ever going to get.

"Elliot?" His therapist said, tapping on the table to shake him out of his trance, "How are you feeling today?"

Felix lowered his gaze, watching the therapist's pencil balance haphazardly on his forefinger, "I'm okay."

"You've been skipping a lot of your sessions. Since you're eighteen, I can't force you to attend but know that this is in your best interest," The therapist said, flipping through his notes, "Speaking of which, your behaviour these past few days has been… _sporadic._ Has something happened recently? Would you like to talk about it?"

No one else would listen to him. No one believed. What did Felix have to lose to speak with his therapist?

"I was being punished," Felix murmured.

"Punished for what?"

"For not believing," Felix's voice lowered to a whisper, "I wanted to stop believing, wanted to move on with Peter but Pan found out and he punished me for it."

"Where is Pan? Can I speak with him?"

Felix shook his head slowly, "You can only see him if you believe. You don't."

The therapist noted Felix's words down, scribbling onto his clipboard words that were meaningless to him, "Tell me about Peter."

With just Peter alone, Felix could fill the entire hour, "I love him. He made me happy in a way that I'd never felt before in this world. I thought I could give up on my memories for him, anything to make him happy. It didn't work. Pan caught up to me and destroyed _everything_ ," He hung his head, "He makes everything clear, _simple_ but I can't ever have him without Pan getting in the way."

"How does Pan get in the way?" The therapist asked, inching over to the darker questions.

Felix fidgeted with his sweater, an itch on his scalp that he desperately wanted to run his fingers over, "He hurts other people and then makes me take the fall. If I don't work on our story, he'll beat me until I give in or pass out. Sometimes I wake up and everything hurts but I don't know why. And sometimes," His cheeks heated up, his breath stuttering, "He _touches_ me as a reward for good behaviour."

The therapist lowered his pencil, carefully contemplating his words as he took in Felix's harsh description of Pan, "Elliot, this is a very serious matter," He was reaching for a parchment with the school's emblem emblazed upon it, "It would be in your best interest-"

"You can't make me," Felix said, heart beating erratically, "I won't go to rehab. I'm not crazy. It's Pan! He's doing this to me. Why am I always the one that gets punished?" His voice rose with each word, his breathing and mannerisms becoming hysterical.

"This isn't punishment," The therapist said, trying to calm Felix without reaching out to him, "Think about your future, Elliot. Pan has already gotten in the way of one meaningful relationship. Do you want him to ruin every other relationship you'll ever have?" Felix was silent, honestly contemplating his therapist's words for once, "Let us help you. It's your choice."

 

"This is Peter Barrie. Leave a message."

The tone came but Felix couldn't find the words to say. He hung up, putting the phone aside and staring into the sheet of paper in his hands: An admission in the rehabilitation center signed by his therapist, the principal, and himself. In a couple days, he'd be gone, his high school career halted while everyone grew up and moved on without him. Peter would be out of his life forever.

This wasn't fair. His memories were real and they attacked him when he tried to reject them. Every day, he'd have his insanity hammered in, convinced that all his memories were just delusions he made up when he was lonely. Felix no longer defended his memories; what difference did it make? Memories or delusions, Felix was starting to condemn them himself.

He lowered himself back on the floor, sitting in front of his laptop and opening up his Neverland document. Scrolling to the bottom, Felix hadn't realized how much he typed in such a small amount of time. 230 pages in, Felix was nearing the end.

_Felix vegetated in his cell, sitting on the cot with his head lazily lolling into the wall. He could see the stars from the window but found no solace in them. He wanted to see Neverland's skies, not this world's. He brought his knees up on the cot, holding them close as he tried to imagine a better world._

_All he had to do was wait a bit longer, Pan would come for him. Pan would have a plan. He believed in him as he always did._

_The far door opened. It was far too late for anyone to be visiting. The footsteps were too soft, belonging to a child at most. Felix leapt to his feet, holding the bars and smiling, "Peter!" He called out, overjoyed._

_"You look well," Peter said, Henry's cherubic face creating a jarring contrast to Pan's edges and angles, "We've got a lot to do. Are you ready to go?"_

"Of this whole place," Felix whispered his lines as he typed, remembering that final moment when he thought everything would be alright. He remembered his damning thoughts, how he wished for all of Pan's enemies to die screaming, how Pan _approved_ of his cruelty. Perhaps Peter was right, Pan was a tyrant but Felix loved him all the same.

The final lines were jotted down, ending on Pan and Felix looming over Storybrooke. Felix swallowed, lowering his hands to his side. In the back of his mind, he still remembered the time he shared with Peter, how he wanted to write a new ending with him, _a happy ending._ Felix ducked his head, clutching at his chest as it ached like it was collapsing in on itself.

If he was going to leave, he wanted Peter to have something to remember him by, something to let him know that he meant the world to him.

Disregarding how late into the night it was, Felix formatted his document and printed out his entire story: A 200 page behemoth that resembled a dictionary more than a novel. There was no way he could simply hand Peter a stack of papers like this, he needed binding, a cover, _a bookmark_. With this goal in mind, Felix collected sheets of leather from his drawers, string to bind it together, green studs for decoration. He ran his fingers over the trinkets dangling over his desk, bundles of leather and feathers Felix based off the creations in his dreams. He took the best one out, a long leather strap strung together with beads and feathers at the very end.

While spreading out the components on his desk, Felix's gaze met with one of his paintings hanging on the wall. He touched the paper, noting that it was painted on card and not anything thicker like canvas. _A book should have pictures._ To justify Neverland's magnificence without imagery would be a travesty. Felix took the paintings off, one by one, and cut them into proper size with an exacto-knife.

In a single night, half of Felix's paintings were taken down. Felix worked carefully on the binding, fingers still and skilled as he professionally put his book together. He finished the binding by weaving the feather tassel through it, a makeshift _bookmark_ should Peter read through it all. Felix laughed, lifting the book up and flipping through it, memories of Neverland flashing past him, the scent of jungles and magic wafting through the air.

His thumb met the final page, locking onto the image he selected for it: _Felix's heart_ , vibrant against a backing of pitch black charcoal. His final fate.

The sting of betrayal, the heartbreak, then nothing at all, in death was peace till Felix woke up again in this world.

Breaking away before the pain could come, Felix shut the book and held it high in the air, letting the rising sun bathe it in a golden glow. _This_ was the greatest thing Felix had ever worked on in this world and the next. _All for Peter._

 

"Peter?" Felix murmured, catching him in the hall outside of the band room, "H-How are you?"

Peter's expression was dismissive, _annoyed_ , but he lied all the same to protect Felix, "Good. You look tired. Are you sleeping well?"

"Haven't been sleeping for a while," Felix said, "Been busy with things," He gave him a smile that was promptly rejected by a cold look, "Needed to finish writing before I…I go to rehab," He tucked his hands into his sweater, "Might not ever see you again so I wanted to…" He faded, hurt by how unaffected Peter was by his words. He reached into his backpack, taking out the completed novel, "I finished this last night, for you. There's no ending yet but I was hoping, maybe after you're done, you can write an ending for it? Something happy?" His breath quivered in his throat, "Peter. Say something. Anything."

Peter sighed; it sounded like a growl, "Why are you here?"

"Because I love you," Felix said.

"No you don't," Peter replied, "You love Pan and you're still obsessed with your _delusions_."

"They're not delusions!" Felix shouted, so fragile and weak, "I'm going to rehab. Isn't that enough?"

"Of course it isn't," Peter barked, "What good is rehabilitation if you still don't think there's anything wrong with you?"

The accusatory tone in his voice made Felix seethe. He grit his teeth, clutching the book to his chest to soothe himself, "There's nothing wrong with me. I swear."

"Do you even know what happened, what you were doing?" Peter asked, realizing that Felix really did believe Pan was responsible for his wrong doings, "You were _throwing yourself against the lockers_ , tripping down stairs over and over. You were harassing Brad and Emily every lunch, on your phone," Felix blinked. _No,_ Pan was doing all that but they couldn't see Pan, "And then sometimes you'd just disappear into a broom closet or bathroom stall to touch yourself. I'd try to talk to you but you'd just ignore me like I wasn't even there."

Felix was shaking his head, "Pan. It was Pan. He was there."

"Elliot!" Peter shouted, "It was you. It was always just you."

"You can't see Pan if you don't believe," Felix replied.

"I did believe, _in you_ ," Peter said, tired of Felix complicating his life, "Over and over again, I stood up for you because I believed that you could control this. _You can't._ "

Felix crumpled under his gaze, clutching the book tighter to his chest as the swelling where his heart should be became unbearable. He groaned, sweeping a hand through his hair before lifting the book from his chest and gesturing it towards Peter, "Please."

"I won't be a part of your stupid, lonely fantasies."

In a last ditch attempt, Felix threw himself at Peter and kissed him. Under his fingers, he could feel Peter's breath slow down, his body warming under his touch. Peter didn't fight back, eyes half-lidded as he gently placed his hands on Felix's chest and _kissed back_. Felix shut his eyes, holding Peter close, wishing they could stay like this forever.

"No, no…" Peter mumbled. Felix wanted to ignore him but was unable to reject any order from Peter. Peter shoved at his chest, tearing away in disgust and wiping his mouth, "This is wrong."

"Why?" Felix murmured, arms dropping to his side. It felt good, _amazing_ and he knew from the way Peter's breath quivered, the way his eyes fluttered shut, that Peter felt the same.

Peter stared at him like he was a monster, "Because you're _insane_."

Felix shook his head, mumbling out a quick succession of 'no', terrified of how Peter felt about him, "I thought…" He shut his eyes, ducking his head, "I thought you wanted to help me."

"I tried to get you away from your fantasies," Peter explained, "But the closer I got, the deeper you dug yourself into it all," Felix was mumbling again, too frightened to deny Peter's accusation, "I can't be with someone like you."

"Someone like-" Felix choked on his words. His breath stuttered. His hands cold and clammy. He stuffed them into the pocket of his sweater, shutting his eyes and tearing away from Peter. He stuffed his novel back into his backpack, uncaring when the tassel tore from the rough manhandling.

At home, ditching school to be with himself, Felix took out his novel and ran a thumb over the binding and the painted leather cover he had hand-made for it. He smiled to himself, admiring his handiwork, every other chapter featuring an illustration of the world relevant to the story. All of Felix's time, craft, and passion woven into this 'novel' _and Peter didn't want it_.

In a fit of rage, Felix took his laptop and hurled it at the walls, tearing apart his notes and paintings. He gasped, collapsing on his knees and wailing uncontrollably. He wanted to go home. He didn't want to be here anymore. Why couldn't Pan save him? Pan was supposed to save him. Why is he always punished? Why can't he be free just for one tiny moment? His rampage left nothing but the notes safely tucked away in his drawers safe. Ironic that he destroyed the notebooks documenting his most happy moments yet kept the painful memories intact.

He reached for the sketches at the bottom, chest hurting as he shoved them into the back and put them out of mind. Those wretched drawings were the ones that deceived him into thinking Peter was Pan. All that was left of his memories was that single book he made for Peter. He took it in his hands and carried it with him to bed.

Even when there was nothing left to do, Felix couldn't fall asleep. Neverland's memories were locking him out. He remained on his bed in his dilapidated room for hours, humming Pan's music to himself while he stroked the cover of his book, doing anything to distract himself.

"I believe," Felix murmured to the moon when night fell, "I believe. I believe. I believe," He shut his eyes, holding his hands up in prayer, "I believe. I believe. _I believe_." He choked, staring out his open window and begging, " _Help._ Please help. _Someone help me_ ," He prayed to the stars.

No one answered.

He felt like his chest was collapsing into itself. He hoped it was a heart attack so he wouldn't have to suffer any longer. Flinching at every sound, twitching at the slightest breeze in the air, other than those minute movements, Felix remained completely still, sitting on the floor with his only manuscript clutched against his chest, trying to fill the emptiness inside of his hollow chest.

_Why do I keep trying?_

The pain always lessened when he clutched something over his heart, trying to fill the void inside of him. Not this time, never again, the pain would never go away.

What would his brother say when he came home and saw him sobbing on the floor? He'd probably scold him for breaking their laptop, tell him his delusions have gone destructive, _send him to an institution and never come back for him_. Felix didn't have any other options. He couldn't stop crying no matter how many happy memories he forced himself to remember.

_Your stupid, lonely fantasies_

Felix swallowed his tears, the unbearable pain of his empty chest finally halting when he looked back on his life and realized what he had to lose. He examined his room, the shreds of notes all over his floor like snow, ripped up paintings decorating the walls, memories of a life he no longer had.

Nothing. There was nothing for him to lose.

 

"Do you think we should open with that song?" Peter asked on his phone, heading down the street to the music repair store to retrieve Emily's guitar.

"I think it's a good song to open on," Emily replied, "It's fast, the tone is light, why not?"

Peter's phone pinged. He lowered it from his ear for a moment and scowled when he saw Felix's name as the sender. He ignored it, continuing on, "But it's not our best song. _My Neverland_ is definitely the best one."

"Brad's right though. That song will bum everyone out."

Peter's phone pinged twice, an incoming call, "One second," Peter said, fearing that Felix was trying to call him now. He was pleasantly surprised to see Brad's name popping up, "Hold on. Brad's calling me."

"I wonder why. He should be at football practice right now."

Peter switched conversations, "Hey Brad, what's up?"

" _Holy shit_ , Peter. You have to get down to the school."

Brad was panicked, voice high in fear in a way Peter didn't understand, "W-What? What's going on?"

" _No fucking way_ -" Brad mumbled to himself, "I didn't think...It's Elliot. He's at the top of the clock tower. I-I think he's going to jump."

Peter froze where he stood, the world blacking out as he recalled his last moment with Felix.

Peter lowered his phone, switching to his text message screen and shuddering: _Thank you for being my friend. Goodbye._

"No, no, no, no," Peter mumbled, sprinting with all his strength. Their school was only a couple blocks. _He could make it._ He could save Felix. The boy was troubled, unbalanced, but he certainly didn't deserve this. On cue, it began to rain, foreshadowing Felix's dreary but inevitable fate.

Anyone in the school would've blamed Felix for putting himself on this path. Peter knew better, knew his foolishness for thinking he could "cure" Felix put them on this tapering path. When he reached the school, he rushed towards the clock tower pushing past everyone who tried to intercept him.

The cops had filled the field. Civilians passing by the school surrounded the perimeter, staring up at a boy they didn't care for perched upon the highest edge of the clock tower. Peter pushed past all of them, heart dropping when his worst fears were confirmed. The lanky form in a pitch black hooded sweater, soaked to the bone, _Felix was up there_.

"Move!" Peter shouted, climbing over the yellow tape and unwisely shoving at a police officer, "That's Felix up there. Get out of the way!"

"We can't let you cross," One cop said, barring his advance, "This is a very delicate situation and-"

"He's my friend!" Peter shouted, "Let me talk to him. I can help him. I swear," There wasn't a person in this entire city that knew more about Felix. He'd spent days with him, huddled together combing through his mind.

The cop let him through, backing off to let Peter climb the stairs to speak with Felix. He couldn't pre-process any words, his mind a jumble whenever he thought about the boy. It was wrong of him to explode, wrong of him to condemn his memories so blatantly, and now Peter was reaping the consequences of breaking an already broken boy.

"Elliot…?" Peter whispered out as he reached the top, shivering as the rain soon seeped through his own clothes, "Elliot!" He called out again when the boy ignored him. He could see Felix's back shudder with a sob, "Why are you up here?"

Peter's heart clenched when Felix turned to face him, eyes red, cheeks soaked with salty tears, protected from the rain by his hood. He shut his eyes when they met Peter, his whole body shuddering with another violent sob. He tightened his grip on the handlebar behind him as he broke down, wailing for a good twenty seconds before Felix took a shaky breath and calmed himself with eerie speed.

"Stop," Felix murmured before Peter could speak, "I don't want your pity so just stop."

"It's not pity," Peter said, "I care about you."

Felix shook his head, pawing at his eyes with one hand, "Shut up."

"It's not pity. I care!" Peter said, desperate to find something to spark Felix's happy memories, "We spent so much time together, playing music, hanging out, putting your memories together."

A bark of cruel laughter came from Felix, laughing at his own miserable situation, "Those aren't my memories," He looked back at Peter, the saddest smile on his face, "Those were just… _stupid, lonely fantasies_."

Peter's terrible words, forever engraved in the pieces of Felix's heart.

"I didn't-" Peter murmured, his thoughts blurring once more, "Please, I didn’t mean it."

"Maybe you're right. That's what everyone told me even if I didn't believe. I don't even know what's _real_ anymore," Felix turned around completely, facing Peter with both hands on the handlebar before him, "I lied to you, Peter."

Peter looked at him, confused. Unable to take a single step further even though Felix welcomed it.

"I knew exactly how my past life ended," Felix murmured, a new pain suddenly flashing in his eyes, a cold jagged pain that made Peter cringe at the sight, "You take me to the well. You tell me that we're going to win. You smile at me like you've never smiled before. And then you _rip my heart out and use it for the curse_ ," Peter's mouth dropped, finally understand the heart on Felix's wall. Felix nearly broke down again, the pain of Pan's betrayal coming twofold, "Because you needed the heart of the _thing you love the most_. It was me, all along."

Confirmation of Peter Pan's love came at the final seconds of Felix's life.

"It…It doesn’t have to be like that," Peter said.

"How else could it be?" Felix replied, "That's why I thought it was real. It had to be real. Why would I make up a story where I don't get a happy ending?"

Peter shook his head, "If you knew this was how it ended, why did you keep chasing Pan?"

"Because I love him! I don't know _why-_ " Felix shouted, screaming, so distraught and confused, "I just want _Peter_ so badly. He made me love him so much that I can't live without him," He crouched, resting his forehead against the handlebar and banging his head against it gently, wishing he could break open his mind and take away all his thoughts, "I thought it could be different with you. Thought we could write a happy ending together," He turned around slowly, swallowing his tears as he examined the alluring drop from the clock tower, "Maybe I'm being punished. Maybe I should've given Pan my heart willingly then I could finally be-"

Felix faded off, his emotions fading with him. As he accepted his fate, his suffering faded as well.

"Elliot…"

"My name's not Elliot," He said, sniffling once as he wiped at his nose, "It's Felix."

Peter took a careful breath, unable to tear his eyes away as _Elliot_ squeezed the handrail behind him before releasing it slowly, "Elliot!" Peter cried out, watching his once friend teeter at the red brick edge, "Elliot, please. Don't do this. Let me help you."

There was a dry hacking sound which Peter hadn't even recognized as _laughter_. The troubled boy turned around, feet light and skilled as he rotated himself to face Peter on the narrow edge, "You think you can save me, don't you?" His voice was cruel, a slow, confident tone he had never taken against anyone. His eyes were steel and for a brief moment, Peter wasn't sure if he was the same person, "Are you going to take me home and love me? Fix eighteen years of my life and heal all of my pain? _Fly me off to Neverland?_ " He let out another bark of laughter, finally making Peter feel small, "I didn't think so."

Peter averted his eyes, feeling so broken and hateful towards himself. By the time his head cleared and the numbness in his tongue subsided, _Felix was gone_.

There were screams before a deafening _thud_ came.

 

Peter reasoned with himself that his reaction was normal. Felix had gone _insane_ , destructive, and if Peter played along with his fantasies, he'd only be worse off later on. The more justified Peter's actions became, the more he wanted to fling himself off the clock tower. Felix was troubled, lonely, _suffering_ and Peter, the only person Felix ever reached out to, pushed him well over the edge.

They had no right to clean out Felix's locker so Peter shooed them off. Yet, when the janitors backed off, Peter couldn't find the heart to open the locker. He stared at it for a while, wondering what he'd see: _Drawings of wondrous landscapes_ or perhaps snippets of his fantasies taped up all along the inside. When he finally gathered enough courage, Peter pulled the metal door open, surprised to find it _empty_.

Empty, just like the boy's wretched life, tormented by delusions and recurring dreams. Felix must've cleared it out before he climbed the tower, save everyone the trouble. _No,_ saved _Peter_ the trouble.

Peter shut the locker, puzzled when he heard a soft thump instead of the metal clang of the shutting door. He opened it again, seeing what appeared to be a stack of papers on the top shelf. He retrieved it carefully, feeling the homemade binding along the spine. He knew what it was before he laid his eyes on the painted island upon the cover.

 _Neverland_. With the laptop destroyed and the only person who could make sense of the notes gone, this was all that was left of Felix's story. He held the book to his chest, swearing to memorize every single line in it. He could only imagine Felix held the pages just as he had, the slightest scent of cheap cologne and natural musk wafting from it.

He thumbed through the pages, impressed by the quality of the binding and the cover. From the imperfections and rugged appearance, he could tell it was handmade. He could see Felix at his desk, carefully piecing together faux leather and green studs and somehow making it work. He opened the cover, stunned when he saw black ink scrawled in the corner: _To my best friend, Peter. Thank you for spending time with me._

Peter's breath hitched, his knees weak; he shut the book and clutched it to his heart.

 

Every day, during class, during lunch, after school, before sleep, Peter read Felix's story, mesmerized by it. Even without the guilt and heartache, Peter wouldn't have been able to put the book down. He felt like a fool for squandering the time they spent putting the book together, all the extra detail he could've asked Felix for. He wondered what they were missing, wondered what would have changed if Peter told him to cut _Curly and Slightly_ instead of Devin.

Under the dim light of his lamp, Peter laughed quietly when Pan accidentally got drunk and started a typhoon on the island, a typhoon only Felix could stop by sobering Peter up in less-than-effective ways. He remembered exactly where this story came from, a red notebook with a broken binding and missing back cover. Peter prided himself on remembering this.

With it all laid out for him in narrative form, Peter saw this as a tale of a broken hero. Contrary to Felix's insistence, this wasn't Peter Pan's tale. It was Felix's, a tragic hero finding love in the wrong place but still making the best of his life. It was a fall from grace, from a cheerful, rascally king who deteriorated the closer he got to death and his lover who followed him down willingly. It was not a romance as Felix believed it to be but it'd be damn close if it weren't for the cruelty Pan displayed.

The day Peter reached the end of the book was the day of Felix's funeral.

A closed casket with Felix's yearbook photo perched upon it, the name "Elliot Granger" engraved into the side. Peter could not think of a more impersonal image. Teachers, some distant relatives, and one man who had to be Felix's brother, those were the only attendees to Felix's funeral. Peter was the outlier, Felix's only friend _._

"I rip out your heart and I use it for a curse," Peter whispered as he lingered on the final page of the book, ending on Felix and Peter standing over 'Storybrooke' with everything they needed for the curse. Felix wanted Peter to write a new ending, a happy ending where Felix in every world would finally be loved. Peter failed miserably.

"H-Hey," Rufus called out, tapping Peter's shoulder with a shaky hand to get his attention, "Thanks for coming. I'm Rufus, Elliot's brother."

 _Ah, right_. His name was Elliot, not Felix. Peter nearly forgot.

"I heard you were friends with my brother. Spent some time with him while I was on a business trip," Rufus was on the verge of tears. From what Peter heard, Felix lost both his parents when he was young and their closest relatives lived in Europe. With Felix gone, Rufus was the last person in his family, "I-just… I tried. You know? I really did. He was just never happy and he wouldn't let go of his make-believe. Goddamn it. It's my fault. I should've been there for him."

Peter wished their pain was the same. Unlike his brother, Felix opened up to him, cherished him, and Peter threw it back in his face, "No," He said, "It's not your fault," He hung his head, the guilt from the last few weeks surfacing, " _I killed him_. He reached out to me and I rejected him," He ran a thumb over the cover of the book, noting the dog-eared edges, "What are you going to do with Elliot's things?"

"I don't know yet," Rufus replied, "Anything you want to do with them?"

 _Nothing_ was the answer Peter wanted to give Rufus. He wanted to keep Felix's room exactly as it was, foolishly hoping that a miracle would happen and he'd find Felix in there one day, curled up in the sheets with a smile on his face.

Peter was shaken out of his thoughts when his foot swept under the bed, rattling a couple empty pill bottles. Rufus immediately knelt to the ground, instinctively picking them up and depositing them in the trash, "I'll clean the place up a bit first. Then you can take whatever you want," He paused, taking a slow breath while he gathered his composure, "Sound good?"

 _Whatever I want?_ Peter wanted it all, wanted to paint his room in Felix's colours, drown himself in his world and never wake up just as he had, wanted to find Felix in his dreams just as Felix found Peter. He wiped at his eyes, not even realize he had teared up in front of a slashed up painting of Neverland. He collected himself quickly, turning to Rufus, "Sorry."

"No. It's good," Rufus said, retrieving a stack of papers from Felix's sacred bottom drawer, "I'm glad there's someone out there who cares for him that much," He held a stack of papers out to Peter, "Did he ever show you these?"

Peter glanced over, seeing what appeared to be a charcoal drawing of a boy with missing fingers, "No," It was curious that Felix hadn't shown these to him before. He took the papers, leafing through them and seeing portraits of what appeared to be characters within his story, "Did he draw all these? They look like photos."

Rufus nodded, picking up Felix's trash can, "Back when he was in middle school. He wouldn't even leave his room, spent all day working on these till I stopped buying him charcoal," He shook his head, "Thought something petty like that would make Elliot give up his fantasies. Take your time, I'll make a snack for you," Rufus gave him a quick nod, exiting the room with Felix's trash.

Peter sat on the bed, admiring how the sheets were still strewn across the bed like Felix had just gotten out of bed and was washing up in the bathroom. The coldness in the sheets proved him wrong. He sighed, distracting himself with the drawings in his hands. He could recognize each and every person on the papers: _Curly,_ the mature-maternal Lost Boy. _Tinkerbell_ , a banished fairy who had befriended Pan before she lost her wings. His lips twisted upwards in a smile involuntarily, watching Felix's already vivid world come to life once more. He was nearing the center of the pile, flipping the drawing as his heart _stopped_.

 _Peter Pan_ , the object of Felix and Felix's love and obsession, reproduced in charcoal. Peter nearly dropped the sketches, brows furrowed in utter confusion at his own face staring back at him. It had to be a coincidence, Peter shuffled through every picture and could find no proof of such. Down to the angle of his nose, the cut on his right eye, the quirk in his brow, these drawing were of _him_. Yet, the wornness of the paper told him a different tale, told Peter that Felix drew these long before he ever met him.

_Impossible…and yet._

Felix must've feared showing Peter these drawings, feared that Peter would misinterpret the sketches of him as some stalker-like obsession.

There was one drawing left. From the outline, Peter could tell it was a boy of no more than twelve. He swallowed, unsure why he was so hesitant. He turned the sheet over, staring back at a mousy looking boy with wide eyes and a sullen look. No name was given on the sheet but it was already on Peter's lips: "Rumpelstiltskin."

"What was that?" Rufus called out, coming up with a plate of chips.

"Rumpelstiltskin," Peter repeated, somehow knowing the boy's name despite him _never_ showing up in the story. His eyes darted to the paintings on the wall, the pieces of corkboard with paper tacked upon it. Not once was this named attached to an unremarkable boy like this, "H-How…" Peter memorized every single line of Felix's story which was why he was so confident that _Rumple_ was not a part of it.

_Impossible. Impossible. Impossible._

But Neverland is where the impossible is possible.

 _"Shut up! Shut up!_ "Peter dropped the sketches, leaping off the bed and suddenly finding the room without a door. He was surrounded by Neverland, the spray of seawater at the mermaid lagoon, giggling from the tree spirits in the deepest parts of the woods, the howl of a stray shadow in the Dark Hollow, _the softest moan from a boy so in love with his king._

Peter paid Rufus no mind, paid nothing any mind as he saw Felix, standing in the middle of the woods bloodied and beaten, _begging for help_. Felix, dressed in ratty rags but looking regal like a knight, the Lost Boy leader. Felix, crumpled in the dirt before him while his heart was crushed to ash in his hands. Neverland was _real_ ; Felix was right; Peter could finally see, finally share Felix's pain and save him from his loneliness.

"It's too late," Peter cried, crumpled on the ground gripping into his hair, "He's gone."

"It's because you couldn't believe in him."

Peter looked up, staring into Rufus's blank expression, "I do now! I believe him!"

Rufus shrugged, "No one believed in him. No one ever did," He stepped past Peter, staring at the painting of Neverland hanging on the center of his wall, "Not in that world either."

Peter stiffened at his statement, staring at him bewildered, "I believed in him. I always did. _I loved Felix_!"

"You love yourself," Rufus said, crouching so he could look Peter in the eye, "This is the punishment you deserve."

Trembling, Peter took hold of Rufus's collar, trying to snarl but his voice too shaky to be threatening "Then let me be punished. Do whatever the hell you want to me but _leave Felix alone_ ," His voice choked in his throat. His lips trembling as he lost all harshness in his voice, "I get it. I know what I did was wrong. Don't make him suffer anymore. _Please_."

Rufus stared at him, eyes unblinking and blank, falling silent while his words continued to echo in the room. Picking up Felix's novel, Peter stormed out of the room, his mind muddled and thundering with uncontrollable thoughts. He wondered if this was how Felix felt all the time, unable to concentrate on reality and common sense, _lost to nonsensical thoughts._

He collapsed onto the floor when he returned home, shutting the door to his room behind him before crumpling to the ground with Felix's novel clutched to his chest. Felix was gone. No matter how much he justified himself, no matter how much his friends forgave him, Peter knew it was because he killed him, broke his heart into unsalvageable pieces in this world and the previous.

Peter lifted himself slowly, realizing Felix's last wish was in his hands. He forced himself to stand, opening the book to its final page and laying it on his desk. With a pen in hand, Peter finished Felix's story.

_Victory was literally in his grasp. Felix's heartbeat was firm and quick in his palms. Just one squeeze and that was all he needed. His eyes met Felix's, hoping to see acceptance, understanding for his sacrifice but sadness filled them instead. After all of his torture, his unfair punishments, his cruel abandonment for other lovers, Felix's heart was breaking for him._

_Felix loved him. Still loved him. And Pan's shrivelled, black coal of a heart burned and twisted in his chest._

_"I can't," Peter said, his voice sounding weaker in Henry's mouth, "I can't do it," He pushed his hand forward, putting Felix's heart back inside of his chest, "I love you too."_

_Felix gasped, sputtering with laughter, "If you don't, you'll lose," He shut his eyes when Pan threw his arms around him, embracing him as tight as he could, "Peter…"_

_"I don't care," Peter said, "Then let's lose together."_

_The heroes captured them, imprisoned them, switched his body back into his own, and stripped him of his magic and contract to Neverland. Peter paid it no mind, simply enjoying his cell at the sheriff's station with Felix as his bedmate._

Peter wrote in two final words: _The end,_ letting one world end with Peter and Felix together.

 

 

\--

 

 

"My name's not Elliot. It's Felix."

Peter blinked, finding himself back on the clock tower soaked through with cold rain. There was something sitting in the back of his mind, memories he couldn't quite grasp but he knew they were real, knew they existed, like a fading dream. He wondered if this was how Felix felt all the time. He blinked several times, his heart aching terribly at the sight of Felix _alive_ , teetering over the edge of the tower.

Peter took a careful breath, unable to tear his eyes away as Felix squeezed the handrail behind him before releasing it slowly, "You're Felix," Peter murmured, "You've always been Felix," Felix took hold of the handle once more, facing outward so Peter could not look at his face, " _My_ Felix."

Felix gasped, turning around to stare at Peter with an unreadable look, his emotions volatile inside of him.

"I'll save you," Peter said, stepping forward slowly, "I'll heal your pain even if I have to give up everything," He watched Felix's expression, watched the despair in his eyes fade as Peter _stepped onto the ledge with him_ , one hand on the handlebar to guide him, " _I love you_ so let's go home."

"S-Stop…" Felix murmured, feeling dizzy when Peter climbed up on the narrow edge with him, a single step away from falling to his death, "You'll fall-"

"I know," Peter replied, confident, "Whatever you choose, I won't let you be alone anymore."

Felix choked with another sob, his hand firm on the handlebar as he crumpled against Peter's shoulder, "Do you really mean it?" He stared into Peter's eyes, already knowing his answer and the truth behind it.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," Peter whispered, resting his forehead against Felix's, "I won't stop believing in you ever again. I promise."

The pain in Felix's chest, the phantom ache of regret and insufferable heartbreak was finally gone. Peter wanted to kiss him so badly, wanted to whisk him off to Neverland so they could live their lives in peace. Felix had already shut his eyes, leaning in to meet Peter's lips.

 _Lightning struck the tower_. Peter shouted, his whole body shaken as the tremors _threw Felix off_. His eyes grew wide, watching in horror as Felix tumbled off the tower, staring right back at him, _reaching for him._ There was no solace, no redemption, no happy ending, this was another _punishment_.

_Or was it a test?_

Peter wasted no time _leaping off the tower himself_ , arms wrapping tightly around Felix's torso, shielding him as they tumbled through the air. They had no time to speak, staring into each other's eyes before shutting them tight and bracing for impact.

 

_"Hey, that guy's son looks real pretty, don't he?"_

He could hear the hounds, see the flashlights in the distance as he fled into the forest dressed in nothing but rags.

_"Bet you twenty shillings he's trying to pass off his daughter as a boy."_

Felix winced when he landed on a sharpened branch. He covered his mouth, muffling his cries of pain as he wiped the blood off his foot on a patch of leaves and continued running. The wolves would be attracted to the scent.

_"Fuck if I care, get him over here!"_

He tumbled down a hill, scratched and beaten by the brambles of the woods before landing on his back, his breath knocked out of him. What was a better death? Wolf or Man? The answer was obvious and Felix was back on his feet, scrambling aimlessly deeper into the forest as the soldiers closed in.

_"Shoot the old man. Keep the 'girl'."_

The tears were sudden and choked him up but Felix kept running, kept panting, seeing nothing but the red of his father's blood splattered on the dirt the soldiers rutted him into. He could hear the dogs, the lights illuminating the leaves around him. He couldn't get away but he refused to stop trying.

"Ah!" Felix cried out, collapsing into the dirt as a _bear trap_ clamped down onto his left leg. He screamed uncontrollably, clutching at his calf as blood squirted from the wound. It was one of his father's traps, one to catch the wolves and control their overpopulation, "No, no, no, no, no…" He mumbled repeatedly, his whole body racked with exhaustion and pain. He could hear nothing but the dogs, the lustful cry of enemy soldiers who invaded his home and tore apart everything he had.

Felix looked to the sky, covered in his father's blood and his own, " _Help._ Please help. _Someone help me_ ," He prayed to the stars.

Someone answered.

 

Peter's head was spinning as he awoke. Last thing he could remember was leaping off the tower, the world blurring around him as he took Felix into his arms, burying his head into the crook of his neck as the two plummeted to the ground. Now he was in a hospital room, the bleached walls and sterile sheets a dead giveaway.

Peter groaned as he sat up, shifting himself up the pillows slowly.

"Whoa there, careful," A voice called to him. From his white jacket, Peter assumed it was a doctor, "You should lie down."

Peter rubbed at his eyes, "Am I dead?"

The doctor chuckled, "You're alive. Don't worry about that," He placed his clipboard down, fiddling with the controls on the side of Peter's bed to help him sit up, "No fractures, no internal damage, just a bit of bruising on your torso. Other than that, you're completely fine."

 _Completely fine?_ He fell from the top of the tower, plummeted with nothing but Felix in his arms against the harsh pavement. How in the world could he possibly be alive let alone unscathed? His heart stopped briefly, cold sweat on his skin as he whipped around to the _empty bed_ next to him.

"F-Felix…" Peter whimpered, "Where's Felix? Is he okay? Why isn't he in here!" His voice rose to a scream, his heart racing at the thought of Felix's death.

The doctor held his hands out, trying to calm Peter, "P-Peter please, calm down first. Elliot is fine-"

"Where's Felix!" Peter screamed, hysterical till his eyes met the tall boy standing by the doorway with a candy bar in his hand. Just like him, Felix had nothing more but a bit of bruising visible under his hospital gown, "Felix," Peter murmured, eyes tearing up as he leapt off his bed and crashed into Felix's arms.

Peter nearly broke down when Felix returned his embrace, holding him just as tightly as if both of them would disappear if they let go, "You scared me," Felix murmured into his hair, not caring that Peter had latched onto his bruised flesh. The pain was nothing compared to the relief in his heart, " _Damn it Peter_ , I thought you were going to die."

Maybe they were dead but it didn't matter, as long as they were together. Peter welcomed the possibility but pushed it aside. What was important now was that Felix was here with him, "I'll wait for you. No matter how long it takes for that _imposter_ _Pan_ to leave you be," Peter whispered into his chest, "I'll believe in you till the day I die," Without the rain battering them and the thunder drowning out their words, Peter could finally repeat them without interruption.

Felix wanted to cry from happiness. He clutched at Peter, pressing his smile into his hair as he laughed, voice high and clear, like nothing Peter had ever heard before. The two tore away briefly, staring into each other's eyes before Peter initiated the kiss, pressing forward till their lips met.

"Peter," Felix groaned, unable to tear his lips away for just a moment, "If you died, I'd never forgive myself," He sobbed once, shutting his mouth and swallowing his sadness so he could properly relish Peter's warmth.

"Same," Peter replied, holding Felix's face and completely disregarding his friends and family watching them outside the room, "I knew we'd make it though. _I can fly,_ remember?"

All the weight of his memories, of a lost Neverland, of a broken, unloved boy lifted from Felix's heart and soul. Delusions or memories, it no longer mattered. Pan could haunt him all he wants; he'd fight through it all the same just to have Peter in his arms.

In at least one world, the story could end with Peter and Felix together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ending gave me the biggest trouble since from the beginning, I intended this to world to be a punishment-reincarnation story but as I wrote it, the more I liked the idea that this really was all in Felix's head. Although, the happy ending fit much better with punishment-reincarnation so that worked out nicely. Thank you for reading!


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